Forbidden
by lime.likes.jam
Summary: I knew it was forbidden. For more than 30 years I'd been banned from stepping foot on Quileute soil; and for 30 years, I'd been breaking that rule. Short forays, in and out, before anyone noticed; until eventually, someone did. And not just anyone; the Alpha, who's determined never to let me leave. Little does he know that if his simple request doesn't kill me, someone else will.
1. Remembering

**This story is set almost 4 years after Breaking Dawn.**

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Remembering**

The usual shudder rolled through me as I crossed the border to step foot on Quileute soil. Closing my eyes as a second tremor shivered through me, I felt the familiar cold chill move down my spine as the protection that was sunk deep into the poisoned earth registered my unwelcome presence.

Not for the first time, I wished this wasn't forbidden.

Forbidden from returning, forbidden from ever setting foot on Quileute land again; that was the injunction that had been laid down. That was the command, the order, that had been forced upon me. Tied to my very being, tied to my blood, so that even when those who willed my exile were gone, I would still never be able to come back.

Not unless I wanted to court death. That was the punishment. Break the boundaries, break the rules, and face the consequences.

Consequences that were not enough to deter me; never had been, never would be.

Because no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't stay away. No matter how much I resisted, no matter how many years passed; I always found myself returning.

Home. There was no escaping it; no leaving it behind. Its pull, its allure, was too powerful.

So powerful that not even the threat of death could keep me away.

Not today.

Trembling again, though this time not from the land, my breaths hitched in my throat.

I had put this off for too long.

* * *

A heaving sob worked its way out of my choked throat as I stared down at the too familiar gravestone in front of me.

No matter how many times I did this, it never got any easier.

Falling to my knees on the cool earth, my hands dug deep into the moist soil as the hot tears that had been threatening to overflow poured down my cheeks. The trembling that had been constant since I had crossed the border was growing uncontrollable, my whole body shaking as my heart clenched and constricted.

But that was nothing compared to the sharp rush and stab of pain that assailed as me as I choked out the two gut wrenching words that never failed to leave me crippled with grief.

'Hello father.' They were barely even a whisper, inaudible to all but to those with the keenest hearing. But the volume did nothing to lessen the impact as the wave of pain crashed into me.

Gone. He was gone. Gone was the man I had trusted above all others, the man who had raised me. Gone was the man who had fought for me when I was nothing but a stranger, the man who had gone against the tribe to save my life.

He was gone, and I couldn't follow; a painful truth that never failed to leave me keening in despair.

Sometimes all I wanted was to see him again. Too talk to him, to touch him; to just soak in the comfort of his presence.

If only that was possible.

Settling down more comfortably on the damp soil, folding my jean clad legs beneath me, I sucked in a deep breath so that I could speak again.

'I miss you.' I croaked, whimpering softly and bowing my head as the sudden wind that blew carried my words. The breeze tore at my clothes and blew my golden brown hair over my shoulders, and it was with a trembling hand I brushed it out of my face.

'I'm sorry I haven't visited lately.' I said shakily, fighting to keep my voice in check. 'I should have come last year and the year before that, but-' Emotion filled up my throat as my eyes brimmed with tears.

How I wished he was here. I would have given anything to have a conversation with him, to tell him in person just how much it pained me not to visit every time the day of his death came around. To tell him how much I wanted to come and talk to him every day, and not just every few years. To tell him much I needed him, needed a father, needed someone who knew everything about me.

But since he wasn't here, I'd just have to settle for what I always did; talking to his headstone, his buried body, and hoping he could hear me.

* * *

Hours passed as we talked; or rather, as I talked. Hours where I spent long periods in silence, soaking up the rare pleasure of breathing in the sweet air of home, of enjoying the familiarity of the trees, the earth, the clouds. Hours over which my trembling was reduced to an almost imperceptible quivering, while my tears dried up, and my voice lost its quiet hoarseness.

Hours of remembering so many other visits, so many other days, spent doing nothing but simply revelling in the memory of his presence.

And remembering another grave, another visit, and another life.

* * *

_64 Years Earlier_

'Thea?' I turned at the sound of my father's questioning voice. Seated cross legged under the large willow tree, my eyes found him as he fought through the hanging leaves.

'Out here again?' He said with a touch of exasperation, though he smiled at me.

'I like talking to her, father.' I said, glancing back at the worn and simple headstone in front of me. 'It makes me feel like I know her.'

'But you do know her, sweetpea.' He said, taking my small hand in his large one and pulling me to my feet. Only as tall as his hips, I had to crane my neck to look at him.

'Not really.' I said, staring down at my dead mother's grave. 'We never met.' I said forlornly. Father crouched down next to me, at my eye level as he spoke.

'But she still loved you, sweetpea.' I gave him a dubious look. Even at an age around eight, I was questioning the world around me.

'How do you know, father? I'm not like her. I'm different.' He gave me careful, measured look, responding to my quiet and worried tone. Giving me a loving smile, he took both of my hands in his.

'Different isn't bad.'

'Even if different means being half vampire?' I whispered, voicing my deepest and darkest fear. My eyes were wide as I gazed at him, dreading his answer.

'Even then. Because you're half human as well, remember? Half of her. And she was good and kind and fun, just like you.' I smiled at him, all of the tension and fear leaving my wary body.

Father always knew just what to say to cheer me up.

* * *

I couldn't help but smile wistfully at the memory. Sad, because we would never talk like that again, and happy, because it was wonderful to see him smile at me, even if it was only in my mind.

Bittersweet. That's what this was. Finally getting to come home, but only for the most melancholy reason. Loving being back on Quileute land, but finding none of the people I remembered to share it with.

Today was both a blessing and a curse.

Feeling new tears spilling down my cheeks, I reached out to touch the cold rock of his gravestone. Tracing over the engraved inscription, I mouthed the words.

_Ephraim Black_

_December 4, 1891 – August 16, 1973_

_Chief, Alpha, Father and Protector_

37 years. It was 37 years today that I'd lost him. Since we'd all lost him.

The last known Alpha of a Quileute wolf pack.

* * *

As usual, leaving my father's graveside was a deeply unappealing prospect. It wasn't until I'd been sitting there long enough that my joints had frozen in place that I finally managed to find the will to move.

I got to my feet slowly, stumbling slightly from my inaction. I couldn't tear my eyes away from the gravestone, feeling the usual sad pang at the thought of once again leaving; and not knowing when I'd be able to come back. Breathing deeply as I blinked back tears, I wasn't sure how long I hovered there, trying to convince myself to walk away.

But eventually, bending over to press my lips to the top of the marker, I murmured my farewell.

'Goodbye father.' I whispered, stepping back to give the gravestone one last melancholy glance, before turning away.

Only to find myself pausing before I'd even taken a step.

There was a man walking across the cemetery; not something that would usually be out of place. At first glance he seemed totally unremarkable; no one but a stranger visiting just as I was. I couldn't place the niggling swirl of doubt that was nestled in my stomach.

Not until I gave the man another look, and the startling realisation hit me.

I knew him.

Stepping backwards in disbelief, I shook my head, unable to tear my eyes away from the man.

There was no way. No way it was him. I was blatantly staring now, my eyes raving over his figure as the list of similarities kept on growing.

He had the same walk. They had the same height, and the same muscular build; obvious from the stranger's shirtless state. None of which was enough to make the leap in logic that they were the same person, but it was then that I caught a glimpse of his face.

I clapped my hands over my mouth to keep back my wordless exclamation, clutching onto a nearby tree for support.

They were the same. The faces were the same. The same eyes, the same jaw.

It was him.

No. It wasn't possible. It couldn't be him. The logical part of me screamed that there was no way the man walking across the grass was who I thought it was, that the man I knew was older than this one, that my despair over my father's death was making me hallucinate.

But it wasn't the logical part of me that was in control. It was emotional side, one that desperately hoping the man was who I thought it was, that was controlling me.

And it was that hope that drove me forward as I approached. I was stepping slowly, navigating around the grave markers, my eyes still analysing the man as my heart thundered in my chest. It wasn't until I was barely 10 feet away, still staring, that I spoke.

'Quil?' My voice was soft, searching, and unsure. The man spun, the too fast movement of a shape-shifter the final similarity that ultimately convinced me of his identity. With a wild gasp, I threw myself forward, throwing my arms around his shoulders as I embraced him.

His dangerous growl was the only warning I had before I found myself ripped away and sent flying backwards.

Even with my enhanced reflexes, I struggled to keep my feet as I landed, stumbling as I stared at him in shock. He was seething with rage, the tell-tale tremors of a wolf about to phase wracking his solid frame.

It was then that I noticed what I had failed to realised before; while the man smelled of pack, and smelled of wolf, it was not a familiar scent that washed over me.

Whoever this was, they were not the Quil I knew. The Quil I knew had never looked at me with the anger-filled gaze this man was currently levelling at me.

'I'm sorry! I thought you were someone else!' I gasped, staggering backwards, sudden fear gripping me, shock sending my mind reeling.

Another wolf pack. How had I had not noticed? Surely I should have come across their scent on my way here! It should have been all over the border! Had I really been so distracted that I hadn't noticed it?!

As the trembling man started stalking towards me, I knew the answer.

Yes. Yes, I had been that distracted. And I was bitterly regretting it now. Because while the last wolf pack had known me, had known that while I was a half-vampire I was in no way a threat, this pack – this wolf – did not.

And this wolf was angry.


	2. Evasion

**Chapter 2 - Evasion**

I disappeared into the trees just in time to hear a furious, dangerous growl rip through the air behind me.

I was in so much trouble. I was trembling, panic making itself known deep in the pit of my stomach. Trouble was not a severe enough word for what I was in; life threatening danger was closer.

Life threatening danger that was about to rip me to shreds if I didn't start running quicker.

Already at a dead run through the trees, I pushed myself faster, stretching my legs as I all but flew across the ground. The exhilarating sensation of the wind tearing at my clothes, one that almost always made me smile in enjoyment, couldn't seem to break the building fear that was surging to the surface.

Especially as a second enraged snarl echoed from behind me, and the tell-tale signs of pursuit reached my ears. The snapping and growling was growing louder, the rhythmic pounding of the wolf's predatory run growing faster and closer as we both flew through the trees. Fear, sharp and piercing, broke through the thin barriers that had just barely been holding it back, my pulse no longer thrumming just from the run. Panic was driving my movements, pushing me faster, faster, faster.

He was going to catch me. It didn't matter how fast I ran, I was dangerously out matched. I might be faster than human, but I had nothing on a full-blooded supernatural hunter. He would be on me in just seconds.

But that knowledge didn't stop me from throwing myself at a dead run towards to closest part of the border; all the while cursing my insanity.

Why? Why had I done that? I had known it wasn't him, known that the Quil I had mistaken the shape-shifter for was long gone. If I had just taken the time to think, had let go of the despair that was controlling me, this could have all been avoided. But I had hoped, had foolishly hoped, had acted on want and desire, and now I was paying the price.

A price that was coming in the form of an infuriated werewolf that was just seconds away from slamming into me.

Feeling his hot breath on my neck, I ducked and dodged, throwing myself sidewards behind a tree, before taking off back in the opposite direction. The wolf snarled in protest, changing directions faster than I would have thought possible. My breath hitched in my throat as I dodged again, narrowly avoiding being clawed by his angry swipe. My whole body was as tense as a live wire, my every sense peeled for the movement of the chocolate brown wolf that was hunting me.

I managed to run only a few more steps before I was once again forced to duck behind a tree, evading yet another lunge by the still enraged wolf. This time, however, I was thrown off balance as the wolf crashed into the tree instead of swerving, forcing me to throw myself to the side or be crushed by the trunk crashing to the earth.

Quickly rolling to my feet, I was forced straight back to the ground by the wolf's violent leap in my direction. I huffed, my heart stuttering as I just barely avoided being mauled. Scrambling into a crouch – fear and adrenaline keeping me constantly on the move – I was about to throw myself forward once more when I was suddenly slammed into from the side.

Forced into the ground, I gasped as all the air was pushed from my lungs, the world spinning on its axis as I rolled across the earth. Sucking in a huge breath, my lungs burned, my chest tight. A second wolf of a dark brown colour had snuck up behind me, and only a quick roll driven by panic narrowly saved me from its snapping jaws as it pressed its advantage.

If only my evasive roll hadn't put me right into the path of the first wolf's attack.

I hissed in pain as claws sliced into my arm, carving three searing slashes into my left forearm.

But it would have been a lot worse if the attacking wolf hadn't suddenly skidded to a stop, snarling in pain and surprise as three identical cuts appeared on his front left leg.

Fear didn't allow me to seize up in surprise. His hesitation giving me the second I needed to scramble to my feet, I ducked a lunge from the second wolf, who snarled furiously at my continued evasion. Back pedalling furiously, I spun on my heel to throw myself into a dead sprint, heading away from the border I'd be aiming for just moments ago.

Clearly, I wasn't going to be leaving La Push today.

* * *

It was surprisingly easy to slip through the reservation without detection. To be honest, I was surprised I even had the chance to ghost around; the wolves should have been able to catch me easily. Which left me wondering why exactly they'd let me go.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't have a few theories, but the issue still bugged me. Past experience told me that when supernatural creatures started acting strangely, that was the time to start getting worried. Still, I couldn't deny that I was glad I had escaped; death or injury wasn't exactly high on my priority list.

But despite my evasion of the wolves, I felt far from safe just walking around in public; and I felt even more uncomfortable the further away from the border I went. It was one thing to break the border and stick to the outskirts, but it was another thing entirely to walk around the centre of Quileute land. Even as I walked I could feel the thickening pressure, the urge to turn back and flee. It vanished after just a moment, but by no means was it forgotten; I knew that the deeper I went into forbidden territory, the greater the threat of death grew.

And so it was with a sigh of relief that I slipped into the shadows behind the first building I came across, finally letting myself to feel the pain I had been blocking out from my wounded arm. The three cuts weren't deep, but weren't surface scratches either. My breaths hitched as I flexed my arm, the dull pain suddenly flaring to life as the slashes stretched.

Breathing heavily, I used my free right arm to tear off a strip from the bottom of my shirt, gently using the material to wipe the trails of blood off my arm. I winced as the fabric caught on the burning skin, winding the strip around the gashes as bandage; more for the purpose of hiding the injury than anything. There was nothing I could do about the throbbing, but the cuts themselves would heal by tomorrow. Still significantly faster than they would heal on a human, but I disliked the idea of having a weak arm with wolves roaming about.

Still tense and feeling the vestiges of panic lingering, I was as alert as ever as I slipped around the building I'd been hiding behind. But despite my anxiety, I couldn't help but grin as I caught sight of the large sign out the front.

_La Push Day Care Centre_

Of all the places to end up, it just happened to be the one I was intending to visit anyway. Shaking my head softly in disbelief, I couldn't help but perk in anticipation.

There was someone I was hoping to find.

* * *

It was probably a tad suspicious of me to start snooping around the day care centre, looking for a certain someone; ok, maybe more than a tad. But after the day I was having, I was in dire need of some happiness, preferably from someone alive and not attacking me, and I knew just where to find it.

So it was with more eagerness than sheepishness that I slipped through a door away from the strangely deserted reception, to find myself suddenly thrust into a loud and vibrant room full of lively children. All completely fascinated and immersed in their own worlds of entertainment, they didn't bat an eyelid at my entrance, but the same couldn't be said of one of the adult caretakers in the room, who gave me a curious look. Giving the woman a small distracted smile, my eyes roamed the room; searching, analysing, waiting for recognition. She was here, I knew it; I just need to find her.

However, in a strange twist of fate, the little girl found me first. The five year old human beat the half-vampire; no wonder the wolves had caught me so easily.

'Aunty Thea!' An excited shriek and squeal met my ears, and I grinned at the familiar sound. My eyes immediately locked onto the source, alight with happiness as the bouncing dark haired girl came running towards me. Bending down to scoop her up into my arms, in a move I'd done so many times before, I clutched her to me tightly, as she hugged me back with enthusiasm.

'Ani!' I breathed happily, swinging her around in a circle as she laughed. 'My Ani.'

'Thea! Thea, you're back!' She exclaimed joyfully, and I melted, her glee filled eyes adorable as she gazed up at her. Poking her nose gently with affection, I matched her beaming smile.

'Of course I am, Ani! You know I love seeing you. And look at you! It's only been a month and look how much you've grown!' She glowed at my words, replying with excitement.

'I know! I'm getting big now! Mama says she can't believe it.' I smiled at her mention of my sister, a sudden and overwhelming sense of missing them both hitting me. It was irrational, considering Ani was in my arms, and I'd be seeing Sera before the end of the day, but I couldn't help but lament having left in the first place.

'Well, why don't we go and find her, Ani?' Another killer smile was directed my way, and I sighed in contentment; it was hard not to be happy with her radiating elation from every pore.

'Can we? Thea, can we please?' The pleading look she levelled me didn't allow for rejection. Giving her another gentle poke to the nose, and settling her more comfortably on my hip, I scanned the room again to find the woman who had first noticed my arrival studying us with a grin.

'You're her Aunt?' She asked, and I smiled, giving her a slightly curious look. She elaborated. 'Even if I hadn't heard her greeting squeal, she looks a lot like you.' I grinned, and would have replied if Ani hadn't beaten me to it.

'Can we go find mama now?' She asked, giving me an imploring look. I exchanged a look with the woman, who turned her back on us with a grin; I guess we were dismissed.

'Of course, Ani.' I said, making her squeal as I tickled her lightly. Hugging Ani closer, I made to push back through the door to the reception, wincing slightly at the pressure on my injured arm; only to find myself jerking backwards as a too familiar scent reached me.

Werewolf.

Damn it. Glancing around the room quickly, I groaned softly at the fact that this was the only door. If I'd known they would find me this easily, I wouldn't have trapped myself in a single entrance building. I cringed slightly at my limited options.

I was going to need an awful lot of luck to sneak out here; luck I didn't think I had. The panic that had been fading into the background in Ani's joyful presence came surging back with a vengeance, fear filling my veins and making my chest tighten. I had a terrible sinking feeling that this was going to end _very _badly.

'Aunty Thea?' Ani's soft and curious voice cut through my slightly panicked thoughts, and it was with a start that a sudden idea came to me. Giving her a smile – one that I hoped didn't show my alarm – I set her down gently on her feet, crouching down to her eye level.

'Can you do something for me, Ani?' Somehow, my voice managed to come out without a hint to my inner turmoil, not betraying my consuming fear. She nodded enthusiastically, oblivious to my ulterior motives.

'We're going to have a race.' She jumped slightly in restrained anticipation, her eyes lighting up.

'When we get out the front door, we're going to race to the tree line, ok? And I'll chase after you, and call after you, but you don't stop, ok?' She nodded twice, shifting impatiently as she grinned; she didn't flinch at or even seem to notice the stress in my tone.

'And then afterwards, we can go find mama.' Another grin, and despite my churning stomach, I couldn't help but smile in return; even with my mind questioning whether or not there was actually going to be an afterwards.

* * *

Ani burst through the door with an excited squeal, grinning and giggling as she raced across the reception and threw herself out of the propped open front door. I had timed it perfectly; she easily squeezed passed the woman holding the door open, and I raced after her, barrelling passed the werewolf in the hallway before he could do much more than stare at me in shock.

'Ani!' I yelled after her, bursting through the doorway wildly, pausing as my gaze immediately locked on her happily bouncing figure. I threw myself into a run, heading after her disappearing figure as I shouted again.

'Ani, wait!' Just as I had instructed, she didn't even turn at my yell, heading towards the tree line as her pigtails whipped in the breeze.

I couldn't help but smile at the sight; my first mistake. Because while my attention was solely and intimately focused on her, it wasn't at all directed to where I was going.

I slammed into something hard; no, not something, _someone_. Hot skin met my own, and I recoiled instantly, my breath whooshing out in a rush as I flinched back with inhuman speed.

He was faster.


	3. Imprint

**Chapter 3 - Imprint**

One hand grabbed my wrist, the other pulling me right back into him as his power rolled over me in a suffocating wave. It radiated off of him; every pore, every cell of his being screamed dominance. There was no mistaking who he was.

The alpha. I had managed to escape the wolf inside only to deliver myself into the hands of a wolf far more dangerous. Panic rose up, thick and irrepressible, blasting through my barely held up composure in a crippling wave.

I had no chance. No chance at all. But that grim knowledge didn't stop me from trying to pull away, from trying to twist and turn out of his iron grip. It wasn't until he trapped me firmly and immovably against his chest that I finally turned my fear filled eyes upwards to meet his gaze.

Surprising soft, his dark brown eyes didn't hold the anger or violence I was expecting. Instead of being off putting, the darkness was intoxicating, giving his eyes a deepness and warmness that was enrapturing. The exact shade of brown as that of pine tree bark, with beautiful hints of russet, I couldn't move my eyes away.

Not even when he suddenly released me, staggering backwards in shock. His widened eyes didn't leave mine as he gave me a look of such intensity that I stopped breathing from the power. I was about to ask him _why_ he was levelling me a look of such force when I felt it.

The pull.

At first nothing more but a gentle tug on my heart, before it became an all-consuming yank. I felt as if a burning hot arrow had been stabbed into me, my lungs seizing up as they tried to inhale air that wasn't there. It was pushing on me from all sides, an indescribable pressure, power that was pulling and pushing and tugging and smothering.

But that was nothing compared to the weight. The sudden and immense weight that felt as if it had been dropped on top of me, making me stagger forwards as my legs failed, my vision flaring with blackness as my heart was pierced with what felt like a thousand tiny little knives.

Knives that suddenly disappeared as my seemingly endless fall was stopped by a pair of hot hands on my waist.

Relief. Blissful, body melting relief. My skin tingling where he touched me, an irrepressible sigh escaping my lips as I leaned into him. His touch; his touch making the blackness recede, making the knives disintegrate, giving my lungs the air they so desperately craved. The weight was still there, fading and less intense, but lingering in the background. The pull was still there, seemingly linked to the man who was keeping me upright.

The alpha. The alpha had caught me. The alpha was reeling with surprise; surprise and want and worry and contentment. I could feel him; feel his emotions, feel his very being.

It was like… It was like…

No. No, it couldn't be. He wouldn't have.

My brain was sluggish, resistant as I tried to regain my bearings. I could feel myself trembling, my eyes blinking blearily as if waking from the deepest of sleeps. But as I became more and more lucid, and my brain began to slowly and agonisingly try to process what was going on, I knew that he had.

I could feel it; feel the truth of it, the rightness.

He had imprinted on me.

* * *

_Jacob's POV_

Something was off. I had known it from the moment I'd woken up, senses flaring as my instincts screamed at me.

Something was different, something had changed. Something was going to happen. I knew it; I could feel it with every fibre of my being.

I just didn't know what.

All day I had prowled around the reservation, restless and on edge, my entire body tense with anticipation. Hours had passed, nothing had happened, and yet the feeling, the urge, just kept growing stronger.

It was driving me moderately insane; and by extension, the pack also. _My_ pack; larger now, ever since Sam had handed his wolves over and stopped phasing. Well, almost stopped. It wasn't easy to try and block the urge to phase; to fight the wolf born instincts. But he was trying, and he'd gone a solid month now, and I was really hoping that whatever my instincts were picking up wasn't going to ruin his streak.

If only I knew what was setting my nerves on edge.

* * *

I didn't know why I decided to accompany Quil when he left to pick up Claire. There was no reason, no logic in it. But something unidentifiable, unquantifiable, was telling me to go.

And so go I did.

And for the first time all day, the irrepressible restlessness finally began to fade.

I should have been glad; after a day filled with edginess, I could finally stand still without twitching or fidgeting. And part of me _was _relieved; relieved that whatever had me tense with anticipation had stopped making my nerves so high strung. But I couldn't help but think there was only one reason my instincts were finally calming down.

Whatever I had been waiting for was here.

I breathed in deeply, tasting all of the scents around me. There was nothing, nothing out of the ordinary. There was earth and rain and pine and pack, and a confusing myriad of human; too many different scents mixed and overlapping for anything to be identifiable. But there was nothing out of place; not even a hint of the sharp and sickly sweet that heralded a vampire's arrival.

The only scent I couldn't place was an intoxicating mixture of sugar, cedar, and wisteria that lingered ever so softly in the air. I breathed in deeper, savouring the scent as I tried to locate the source; only to find my senses suddenly consumed as a whole wall of the aroma wafted over me.

Too much. Too strong. It smelled like heaven, but now the smell was blocking all my senses, making me blink in surprise.

And in the second I was overwhelmed by the scent, a small and soft figure suddenly slammed into me.

Warmth. That was the first thing I picked up on; nobody but pack felt warm to me.

And this was not pack.

Instinct made me grab for the figure even as she recoiled, inhuman reflexes almost allowing her to slip out of my grasp. She was fast – faster than a human – but not fast enough. Her pulse thrummed faster than what seemed possible as I gripped her wrist, pulling her back as the mouth-watering scent again washed over me.

Her. The heavenly combination of cedar, wisteria, and sugar was _her._ And now that she was close, fighting as I trapped her against me, I could detect a fourth smell; a faint undercurrent, just the slightest trace.

Pack. She smelled like pack.

It wasn't possible; it _shouldn't _be possible. She was not pack. I was the alpha; I could feel every single one of my wolves, and feel the slight flutter that was Paul's imprint.

I couldn't feel her. But unexplainably, I felt drawn to her. I couldn't muster even a hint of anger or violence towards the half-vampire, and I couldn't help but revel in her delicious scent.

But my strange gravitation to her was nothing compared to the earth-shattering pull that I felt as she turned her fear filled eyes upwards to meet my own.

Blue. They were a stunning, consuming, cobalt blue; the colour of the ocean shallows on those rare sunny days. A deeper and darker blue than the sky, but somehow seeming just as open or vast.

They were mesmerizing. I couldn't look away, and I didn't want to. Because from the instant her eyes met mine, the world had ceased to exist as I knew it.

I had been pulled – been yanked, been tugged so hard I almost staggered – towards the woman I had trapped against me.

But the pull was nothing compared to the weight.

This time I did stagger, releasing her with a gasp as I was slammed with something akin to an alpha order, but a thousand times more powerful. I felt my eyes widen as the force blasted through me, setting my veins alight as my blood burned, my heart stuttering as it was yanked from my chest, and stabbed with a burning hot branding iron.

Her. I was being marked by _her_. Her imprint on my heart.

Imprint.

I felt myself shudder as it rolled through me, tying me to her in every way possible. Forging its way through me and then flooding into her, making a searing connection so deep that for a moment I lost myself in the all-encompassing presence that was her.

I could feel her. Feel every inch of her. Feel every emotion, every breath, every beat of her heart.

And I could feel her falling.

I both saw and felt it as she fell forward, legs failing. And it was effortless, easier than breathing, to step forward and catch her, hands grabbing her waist and settling there as if they were made to hold her.

Her touch. Her touch was indescribable. Heaven. If heaven was physical, then it was her. She steadied the imprint; steadied the uncontrollable weight and consuming pull, alleviating my burning blood and pushing my stolen heart back where it was supposed to go.

Clarity. That was she gave me. Clarity to come back to my senses and process what had happened.

I had imprinted.


	4. Beginning

**Chapter 4 - Beginning**

_Thea's POV_

For a second, it had seemed like his touch might alleviate the crushing weight that was making my bones melt. For a moment, I had thought his touch would ease the too strong pull that was pressing on me from all sides, forcing me into unconsciousness beneath a force I couldn't withstand.

For an instant, everything had made sense.

And then in a roaring rush, the weight had slammed back down on me, the pressure returning, my eyes fluttering from the wave of blackness that rolled over me. It was no longer just my legs that had failed me; my whole body fell limp, my head falling forward to rest on the bare chest of the man that was holding me.

The bare chest; how had I not noticed it? Smooth muscles visible across his stomach, his shoulders strong and his arms thick. His skin was a lovely russet that made his already attractive body even more so; and now I was collapsing against him.

It should have been weird. It _was _weird; barely a minute ago, I had never before set my eyes on him. But I didn't have the brain power, the strength, to process the weirdness. I could barely even focus on the world around me.

The only thing that stood out was him.

The hands on my waist had disappeared, to be replaced with a strong arm hooked around me to hold me up as he pulled me close. The other hand was on my neck, pulling my head away from his chest and turning my face upwards, my half-lidded and glazed eyes only partially aware of him gazing down at me with concern.

Concern. Concern didn't suit his features. His was a happy face; his eyes still holding a hint of happiness even as they crinkled with worry, his mouth perfectly suited to a smile that would consume him; a smile that I irrationally and desperately wanted to see. His hair was short and black, the dark strands matching his typical tanned Quileute skin perfectly. The overall affect was stunning, and if I'd had a choice, I would have continued drinking in his handsome features.

But as the pressing force of the imprint suddenly pushed into me with renewed vigour, making me gasp and cringe, I lost sight of his mesmerizing face. The hand on my neck had disappeared, and I felt my head spin as my unfocused vision was filled with a blur of green and brown. It took me a second to realise that the spinning wasn't just in my mind, but was actually due to my legs being swept from beneath me. The man's warm arms under my knees and bracing my back were strangely comforting, though they probably shouldn't have been.

But even stranger was the sad pang I felt when he released me, gently sitting me on the ground with my back against a tree. I felt the lack of contact immediately; I couldn't stop my breath from hitching from the separation. But through the bond, I could feel his presence; could feel that he was still close.

A fact that shouldn't have made me as relieved as it did.

* * *

_Jacob's POV_

It was strange, the panic that swept over me, as the small body already in my hold went limp. The initial shock that had left me staring at her in fascination was crushed by an irrational and powerful sense of fear, sense of worry. Worry that consumed me, worry that blasted through logic and didn't listen to reason.

Worry for _her_.

Worry that was only building as I hooked an arm firmly around her waist and cupped her neck with the other hand, turning her face up to mine to see her glazed eyes. Eyes that were not seeing me; weren't seeing anything.

Eyes that sent the spark of fear in me into a frenzy. A frenzy that, if not for my mind forcing rationality back into me, would have overtaken me.

Because while the imprint wanted to throw itself into a mindless panic and find out why the hell she was almost passed out in my arms, my brain already knew the answer.

It was the imprint. If it had slammed down on me as hard it had on her, it wasn't surprising. It had been enough to make me stagger; pressing down on me with the force of an alpha order when _I _was the alpha. Even with my natural born resistance to orders, it had been strong enough to blast through me; I couldn't imagine what it had been like for her.

Too much. It would have been too much. It _had_ been too much.

I could only hope that the initial force of it, the searing power of it when I had first laid eyes on her, would fade.

And soon.

But as much I hated that I had done this to her, as much as I hated seeing her so weakened by it, I couldn't deny that it was deeply satisfying to swing her up into my arms. To have her pressed against my chest, my arms around her waist and under her legs.

Mine. She was mine.

Wait, what? I paused as the thought ran through my mind. Hell, I'd only known her a minute and I was already getting possessive. Damn, this imprint was strong.

So strong that even as I gently released her, her back against a tree as she sat against the trunk, I couldn't stand to move away. Even sitting against a neighbouring tree, close enough to reach out and touch her, I could feel the separation; and the urge to remedy it. I fought it though; fought the urge to take her right back up in my arms. Because while the imprint was murmuring a litany of possessive phrases in the back of my mind, she was not mine.

Not yet.

But just because she wasn't mine, it didn't mean I couldn't watch her. Watch her golden brown hair, wavy and dark, strands fluttering in the breeze, spilling over her shoulders and looking so tantalizing all I wanted to do was run my fingers through it. Watch her now-closed eyelids flicker, long dark eyelashes brushing the lightly tanned skin of her cheek; skin that was only a few shades lighter than my own.

And watch her soft breaths blow through her parted lips, wondering what it would look like when she smiled.

* * *

_Thea's POV_

It felt like eternity passed as I reeled from the imprint. Every time I thought I was close to recovery, thought that the never-ending force was abating, it attacked with renewed vigour. Another emotion hitting me, another unyielding strength pressing down, another link being formed.

Links, an endless number of links, to _him_.

And a few small, barely present links to others. Others that I could vaguely feel, vaguely sense; others that lingered, almost not there. Others that were pack.

And there were more pack members than I ever could have imagined. 21 members of pack that I could feel; feel dimly in the back of my mind. Pack members I shouldn't have been feeling at all.

The alpha felt the pack; they were _his_. That made sense. But _me _feeling the pack? That didn't. He was the alpha, so it made sense that the imprint was stronger.

I just hadn't anticipated how strongly, or how closely, it would bind us.

* * *

While the imprint may have slammed down upon me with abruptness, it took its sweet time calming down. And while it was nowhere near as intense or crippling, it was still there; _he _was still there. His emotions, mixing with my own. His heart, beating with mine. His very essence, his very being, connected, tethered, bonded unbreakably and irrevocably, to me.

But though I was no longer almost passed out from the weight, I was by no means free of all of its affects.

I felt drained. Drained of all my energy, all of it expended on fighting the pressure. My limbs were heavy, my eyes unwilling to open, my lungs still feeling suffocated and struggling to draw breath.

Weak. That was what I was. Too weak to even contemplate moving.

But that was before _he s_poke.

'How do you feel?' My eyes flew open at his voice, my body jolting. His voice was like honey; smooth and deep and rich and powerful. It rolled over me in a wave; a wave that was comforting and warm and concerned in a way it shouldn't be.

I half believed I'd imagined it until my searching eyes met his own. His gaze held the same emotions I had felt in his voice, his eyes watching me with an almost hidden intensity that should have been unnerving. Instead, it was compelling, and I found a reply flowing from my lips before I even had a chance to think.

'Like I've been run over by a bus.' I said quietly, and he smiled despite the situation.

His smile; I had been right about his smile. It suited him, transformed him. It made me want to smile back, even though I had no reason to.

But the urge faded, and his smile dropped, as I stretched, shifting against the tree with a wince. My muscles had locked, my limbs leaden and protesting the movement as I tried to get to my feet.

'Let me help you.' He said, standing and offering me a hand almost faster than I could follow. I blinked at him in surprise for a moment, before sliding my small palm into his. He pulled me up with ease, gripping my elbow to steady me as I stumbled.

'Thanks.' I replied with a small smile, his hand lingering as I stared up at him. The contact was intoxicating, and once again, his eyes were disarming, capturing my attention like nothing else could. That was, until his deep rumbling voice once again reached my ears.

'So where are you off to in such a hurry?' He asked with a hint of a smile, as I blinked at him in confusion. He elaborated, still looking strangely amused.

'As I recall, _you_ ran into me.' I smiled sheepishly.

'Sorry. I was distracted.' He laughed; a loud and rich laugh that was music to my ears.

'Clearly. So where were you headed?'

'Away. I was trying to avoid your wolf.' He grinned.

'And you succeeded.' I gave him a dubious look.

'Not really. I ended up running into you, which didn't really fit in with my aim of _avoiding_ shape-shifters.'

'And _why_ were you avoiding us?'

'You have to ask?' He laughed again, softly this time.

'Humour me.'

'Well, I don't know about you, but I prefer _not_ to be attacked by wolves.' He smiled again.

'Understandable.' He agreed, his eyes sparkling with something I couldn't quite identify.

'Is there a reason you're interrogating me about all this?' I asked, raising my eyebrows at him. He smiled innocently.

'Of course.' I waited for him to elaborate, giving him an expectant look, but he just continued to stare at me, a slight smile playing with his lips.

'Are you going to tell me what it is?' I finally asked, curiosity getting the better of me.

'I like mysteries.'

'And?'

'And you are most certainly one of them.'

I grinned. 'I guess I can agree to that.'

* * *

'Thea!' Ani's shrill shriek cut through the air like a knife, and my head whipped to the side to look off in the direction her call had come from.

'Ani?' I called out, my eyes darting as I headed through the trees. A girly laugh that echoed through the trees was my only response, her complete and utter delight almost palpable. The slight worry I'd had was immediately quelled by her giggle, and I couldn't stop the smile that was slowly forming as I rounded a large fir tree to see her jumping up and down with a combination of glee and determination.

'Ani, what are you doing?' I said with a laugh, grinning at the sight of her petite body leaping into the air as she struggled to reach the clump of flowers that was just out of her reach. She was already proudly waving one beaten bloom in her right hand, the flower drooping and limp as she waved it vigorously.

'Thea, I can't reach!' She said plaintively, making another unsuccessful jump, and frowning sadly up at the out of reach flowers. Still smiling, I strode over to her, easily plucking the bunch from their position in a nook of a large fir trunk. Depositing the bouquet in her eagerly awaiting hands, she gave me a blindingly delighted grin.

'Yay! Flowers!' She called loudly, gently cradling the clump against her chest. 'Aren't they pretty?'

'Of course they are.' I replied, snapping the stem off one that had fallen to the ground, and tucking the bright blue flower into her hair as I crouched before her. She beamed, doing the same for me, carefully slipping the flower above my ear.

'Now we're both pretty too.' She said with a grin, which I returned. But her happy expression changed into one of curiosity as she looked over my shoulder with intrigue.

'Who's that?' She asked softly, her eyes wide. Even before I turned to see the object of her attention, I knew exactly who she was talking about. The imprint bond was telling me exactly who was behind me, and it was without surprise that I saw the alpha walking towards us through the trees, a curious expression on his face. I couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of him, though I wasn't quite sure why. But with Ani giving me a curious and persistent look, I didn't have time to ponder it.

'A friend.' I said quietly, pulling her up with me as I stood to face him. He quirked an eyebrow at me, smiling slightly.

'So I'm a friend?' He asked, his tone light and a touch playful, curiosity lacing his words.

'You don't agree?'

'I half thought you were going to say stalker.' I laughed, and he continued. 'But I'm glad you went with the former.'

He held out a hand for me to shake. 'I'm Jake.'

I gave him a smile, and took his hand in my own. 'Thea.'


	5. Sister

**Chapter 5 - Sister**

It had taken me just five minutes of conversation to decide that I liked him. A genuine like, and not an imprint forced affinity. I liked his way of speaking; his playful humour and easy grin. I liked the way he moved; fast and strong, with a natural grace that seemed effortless.

And I liked that while he held all the power of an alpha – the dominance, the authority – he didn't seem to use it at all. In fact, he seemed perfectly happy to let me lead as we walked through the trees.

'Where are we going?' Jake asked, giving me a curious look.

'My sister's house.' His face didn't show his surprise, but the bond did.

'You have a sister?'

'Yes.'

'I didn't know that.' I laughed softly at his remark.

'You didn't even know _me_ until half an hour ago.' He grinned.

'True.' There was a pause, before he spoke again. 'So she's your niece?' He asked, jerking his head to indicate Ani, who was happily running ahead of us. I nodded, giving him a soft smile.

'Yes.'

'Is that why you're here? To visit them?'

'It's one of the reasons.' I gave him a thoughtful look, squashing down the burst of sadness that flared to life.

'You ask a lot of questions.' I said, and he grinned, clearly not at all ashamed.

'I'm curious.'

'Why?'

'Why not?' He retorted with a grin, and I smiled, laughing quietly.

'Are you always this welcoming with strangers in town?' I asked, and he grinned again.

'Only with the ones I like.' I couldn't help but smile at that, and I began to wonder when exactly our conversation had changed from friendly to flirty.

'So, are you going to tell me what your other reasons for being here are?' He asked, his eyes bright as he stared at me. I grinned before shaking my head.

'Nope.'

'Why not?'

'It's a secret.' He laughed softly, before sighing.

'Now I _really_ want to know.'

'I thought you _liked_ mysteries?'

'I like _solving _mysteries.'

'Does that mean you're going to keep trying to get it out of me?' He grinned slyly, eyes sparkling.

'Definitely.' For some reason, I couldn't but laugh at that, smiling.

'Speaking of mysteries, why does your sister live so close to the outskirts? It's pretty isolated, being surrounded by the woods.' He asked, and I raised my eyebrows at him in response.

'This is La Push; everyone's house is surrounded by forest.' He laughed at my remark, grinning.

'Can't argue with that.'

* * *

'I thought you said this was your sister's house?'

'It _is_ my sister's house.'

'Then why are you trying to break in?' I paused in my search for the house key to give Jake an accusing look.

'I'm not breaking in! I'm trying to find the spare key.' I defended, returning to my search of the door frame. Running my hands over the brown wood, my fingers felt for hidden key.

'I _swear _she said they were hidden in the door frame.' I muttered, and Jake laughed softly, watching me with interest.

'Why don't you just ring the doorbell?' He asked from his position casually leaning against the porch rail.

'Because I want to surprise her.' I replied, standing on my tip toes to run my hands over the top of the door frame, and making a happy noise as my fingers found cold metal. Snatching the keys up from the hidden nook, I dangled them happily in Jake's direction.

'Found them.' I said with a smile, and he laughed.

'You're really just going to let yourself in?' He asked, slightly disbelieving.

'Yep.'

'And she won't mind?'

'Of course not. Besides, I always turn up unannounced.' He raised his eyebrows at that, and I just smiled. He shook his head softly, giving me an amused look as he regained his feet.

'As much as I'd like to watch you get arrested, I have somewhere else I need to be.' He said, and I couldn't quite hide the sadness from my smile.

'It was nice talking to you.' I said softly, and he grinned.

'Likewise. I hope it won't be the last time.' Now it was my turn to smile.

'Something tells me it won't be.'

* * *

'Mama!' Ani called out, running through the doorway ahead of me as I headed inside. Giggling excitedly, she ran forwards into the arms of a very familiar dark haired woman, who was staring at her in surprise.

'Ani, what are you doing here!?' Sera yelped, her gaze wide-eyed as her eyes fell on me in the doorway.

'Thea!' She exclaimed, her previous shock turning into pleasant surprise. A broad grin appeared on her face, her eyes lighting up as I stepped forward to meet her, both of us clutching at each other in a tight embrace.

'Where have you been?! Oh, I've missed you! It's been almost a month now!' She gushed, and I grinned.

'I missed you too. As for where I've been, that'll take longer to explain.' She laughed.

'Of course it will. I just can't believe you're here! I hoped you'd come, but it's been so long since you've come back, and I wasn't sure if you going to this year. Have you spent all day at the cemetery?' Pulling backwards, I gave her a sad smile, and she gave me a sympathetic look, tugging me back into another hug.

'I thought I heard talking outside, but I was sure I'd imagined it! Was that you?' I'd forgotten just how talkative my sister was; her rapid chatter flowing over me was both soothing and familiar.

'Yes.' I said, letting her tug me over to the couch, Ani having disappeared through a door which I assumed led to her bedroom. Sitting down next to me, she turned her attentive gaze to mine.

'I could have sworn I heard a male voice-' I couldn't repress a small smile, and she cut off when she saw it, her eyes gleaming as she gasped.

'Oh, it _was_ a man! Who were you talking to?!' She asked eagerly.

'I'll tell you later.'

'Later! Oh no, you're going to tell me now!'

'Not now. Someone might hear.' She gave me a disbelieving and slightly annoyed look, which changed suddenly to one of realisation. Standing up, her eyes wide, she pulled me up and tugged me to the bathroom, shutting the door behind us and turning on the tap. Perching herself on the bathroom bench, she gave me a look full of anticipation and excitement. Grinning, I sat myself on the floor opposite her.

'Now, tell me _everything_.'

* * *

'So you're telling me that not only are there shape-shifters in La Push again – shape-shifters that tried to kill you – but the alpha of the pack has imprinted on you.'

'Correct.'

'Is he good looking?' I laughed at her query, and Sera gave me an indignant look. 'What? It's a valid question!'

'But not the most important one.' She waved me off.

'Just tell me; is he good looking?' I sighed, smiling.

'Yes; very.' She grinned at my words, and gave me a pointed look, to which I responded with a sad sigh.

'You know it doesn't make a difference.' I said quietly, and she gave me an understanding look; because we both knew it was never going to work.

I was an outcast; an exile. Being here, standing here, was forbidden. It wasn't allowed.

I could not stay. I could break the injunction, I could step foot on forbidden soil, but I couldn't stay. It was the one thing – the one rule – I could not break.

Three days. That was longest I had stayed in the last 36 years I had spent sneaking in. Three days that _could not_ be extended. Three days was pushing it; three days was the maximum.

Because after three days, that was when the poison began to take its toll.

It hadn't been enough just for him to banish me. The man – the shape-shifter – that had betrayed me; he had wanted to make sure that I would never return. He had thought – foolishly thought, foolishly believed – that _I _was the danger.

All because of my vampire father. It hadn't mattered that the wolves had killed the vampire before I was even born. It hadn't mattered that I'd never tasted blood, human or otherwise, and ate the exact same things they did. It hadn't mattered that I was half Quileute, and that I'd been living with the tribe for 31 years; 31 years where I'd been nothing but a human with a few different traits.

None of it had mattered. The shape-shifter that had tried to kill me had been too prejudiced to see any of that. All he had seen, all he had known, was that I was part vampire. And he had held it against me, pretending that it didn't bother him for years; until one day, he final gave up the ruse.

When Ephraim had first brought me back to the tribe, having saved from my mother's dead body, there had been distrust. No one had seen the likes of me before; no one had known what to expect. Ephraim had raised me, protected me; he had made it clear that I was staying, and as the chief, no one argued. And as I had grown – a little faster than I most – it had become clear; I was not a danger.

I was happy, friendly; everything you expected from a human girl. Those with doubts had had their misgivings squashed, their worries alleviated; and for most of my life, it had seemed that everything was fine.

Then he had died; my beloved father had left us all. And less than a year later, when Ephraim the chief was no longer around to champion for me, _he _had come forward.

Through his actions, I had found myself banished. And not only banished, but unable to return. The poison worked its way into me, spreading through my body, growing more intense and deadly the further I went into the forbidden territory. Through previous experience, I had discovered that if I stayed on the outskirts, I could last three days before the physical manifestation of the poison became apparent. I hadn't ever stayed longer to find out exactly what the affects were, but I knew the inevitable outcome; death.

After 36 years, I had grown used to living outside of La Push; I had accepted, more or less, that it was no longer my home. I knew, every time I visited, that I could not stay. I knew, when entering Quileute lands, I had to leave.

And until now, I had never come across anything that would prevent me from doing exactly that.

Now, though; now, the alpha had imprinted on me. _Jake _had imprinted on me

But if any of the stories I'd heard about imprinting were true, he wasn't going to be happy about me leaving.

They could not be separated. A wolf could not be apart from his imprint. It just wasn't done.

And he was the alpha. The strongest, the most powerful; everything was more with him. Imprinting was so much more for the alpha.

He would not be able to stand it. _I _would not be able to stand it. Already I could feel it; my very being balked at the thought of walking away from him. My heart was screaming at me to stay, refusing to even contemplate leaving.

Refusing to accept that which could not be changed.

The imprint didn't matter; I couldn't stay. To stay was to die, and that I would not do.

I had to leave. There was no choice; no other option.

I. Was. Leaving.

And I was going to have to fight the imprint to do it.


	6. Options

**C****hapter 6 - Options**

'The way I see it, you have three options.' Sera's voice cut through my depressing reflection, her tone matter-of-fact as she addressed me.

'Option 1: You leave right now and get as far away as you can, and don't come back.' We both balked at that, her voice breaking slightly, and me shuddering. I didn't like it; if I did as she suggested, I would not only never see La Push again, but I would hardly ever see her and Ani; both outcomes filled me with sadness.

'Option 2: You stick with whatever your original plan was, and ignore him as much as possible.' It was nowhere near as unappealing as Option 1, but I doubted it was going to be possible. I _couldn't_ ignore him; even now I could feel him, was thinking about him, remembering him; a fact that was a flaw in both 1 and 2.

'Option 3: You make the most of your three days, and then leave.' I'd be lying if I said three days with Jake wasn't appealing as hell. I liked him far more than I should after just one conversation, and with the imprint pulling at me, it was hard to resist the urge to spend time with him. But as much as I liked the sound of this option, I wasn't sure I'd be able to carry it out; if I didn't want to leave now when I didn't even know him, I certainly wouldn't want to after spending more time with him.

'You didn't list Option 4.' I said quietly, and she gave me a fierce look.

'That's because it's _not_ an option.' I had to agree with her. Option 4: not leaving and dying within the week; it just wasn't a possibility.

'Now, I'll be honest; I don't like Option 1, and I'm pretty sure you don't either.' She looked at me for confirmation, and I nodded.

'So that leaves Options 2 and 3, which really boil down to just one decision; _do you like him? _' She gave me a look with raised eyebrows, her eyes bright with curiosity, and I couldn't help but smile at her question.

'Is that a yes?' She asked, and I grinned, nodding.

'Option 3 it is!' She exclaimed, but her excitement faded as she took in my sad expression.

'Thea?' She asked carefully, giving me a concerned look.

'I don't think I can do it.'

'Do what?'

'Leave.' I breathed sadly, staring at the floor.

'You have to.'

'I know, but-'

'No buts! You like him, he likes you, you _have_ to see him. And you _have_ to leave afterwards.'

'It's not that simple.' She softened at my dejected tone.

'I know. But it's the only way.' She said, before perking up once more. 'And just in case you can't bring yourself to leave, I'll tie you up in the back of my car and drive you out of here myself.'

I couldn't help but laugh at that.

* * *

The hours that followed passed in a blur; a blur filled with smiles and talk and laughter. After just a month apart, Sera and I had a significant amount to talk about; though the topic of imprinting and shape-shifters stayed well off the agenda. Sera knew, without having to ask, that I needed _not_ to think about that situation. But being ever the talker, and a master at distraction, she had no trouble at all keeping me occupied.

We stayed up late – too late, considering she had an early start in the morning – before our conversation eventually dried out. Midnight had come and gone before I found myself collapsing onto the guest bed, sighing into the soft mattress. It wasn't surprising that I fell asleep almost instantly; even hours after my earlier collapse, I was still slightly feeling the effect of the imprint.

What was surprising – and probably shouldn't have been – was the fact that I dreamt about Jake.

* * *

_Jacob's POV_

Leaving was hard; too hard. Too hard considering that I'd met her less than an hour ago, considering I barely knew her. Imprint or not, it shouldn't be this hard; but it was.

I didn't care that I had to tell the pack what had happened. I didn't care that I could feel their curiosity because they knew something had happened, but not what.

All I cared about was her; Thea. Thea, who felt leagues away, even though I'd only just entered the trees and she couldn't be more than 15 metres away. Thea, who I had a million and one questions for.

Questions that were going to have to wait, as I heard Embry's soft howl heralding his arrival. He slid through the trees with ease, his large grey form slipping into step with me as he butted me curiously on the shoulder, his eyes a silent a question. I shook my head slightly, and he gave me an annoyed look.

'I'll tell you all at the same time when we get to Sam and Emily's.' He growled lightly at that, rolling his eyes, but I could tell he was intrigued. Anything that warranted a pack meeting was important information; and therefore interesting.

He gave me another nudge, this time levelling me a pleading look; he wanted to know _now_. I laughed quietly, shaking my head again, and he glared. Huffing, he nudged me a third time, now not so gentle, before stalking off again; leaving me once again alone with my thoughts. Thoughts that weren't focused on Embry, or even where I was going, but on something else entirely. On a woman with golden brown hair and bright blue eyes that no matter what I did, I just couldn't seem to get out of my mind.

* * *

The meeting with the pack – and the following meeting with the elders – had been interesting, to say the least.

The pack had been happy – and a mixture of other emotions – but mostly happy about the news. How much of that was them and how much of it was me, I couldn't tell; if the alpha was happy, the pack was inherently so. But despite that, I was sure that it wasn't just me making them glad; they were genuinely happy for me. They were glad I had found _her_;the one I was supposed to be with. The pack liked imprints – thrived on them even – and so it was unsurprisingly they were glad to have another. And like me, they seemed utterly unfazed by the fact that she only half human.

As shape-shifters, we weren't really in a position judge someone else for being supernatural. And as for the vampire aspect, relations with the Cullen's were better than ever; the pack had long since come to realise that not all vampires were our enemies, and not all vampires killed humans, as legend would have it. Add in the fact that Nessie – the only half-vampire we knew – seemed about as dangerous as a flower, and was just as innocent and pure minded Seth, then it was all too easy to accept that Thea was supernatural.

But as much as the pack was happy and accepting, they were also confused, and I couldn't blame them. Thea was most certainly a mystery, as I had so casually told her. There were so many questions – mine and theirs – that needed to be answered.

Quil wanted to know how the hell she knew who he was, when he was sure they'd never met before. Jared wanted to know how long she'd been hanging around before we'd found her, and how she'd gotten passed us in the first place. Leah was confused about the fact that she had family here, because she had always thought Sera was an only child. The pack's questions mirrored my own, and those were just the tip of the iceberg; when I had eventually left the pack to visit the elders, they had still been throwing around questions left, right and centre.

The visit to the council was much the same. Billy was happy; happier than I'd expected, to be honest. When I told him so, he chuckled, before saying since Rachel and Rebecca didn't seem like they were ever coming back, I was his only child left, and he'd be glad to have a daughter in law; a prospect that shouldn't have made me as happy as it did.

Still, I shouldn't have been surprised he felt that way. He'd been nagging me incessantly over the last few months about finding a girl, saying I was putting too much time into the pack. I disagreed; the pack was mine. Mine to look after, mine to control. I could feel them, every single one of them; it was impossible not to gravitate towards them. As for finding a girl, well, that was an issue much debated in the pack.

Imprinting was _supposed_ to be rare; though four out of seventeen didn't seem rare to me. But was there any point in waiting around for an imprint if she wasn't going to come? And what to do in the mean time? None of us wanted another Sam, Emily, Leah situation, but if imprinting was never going to happen, none of us particularly wanted to stay alone forever. For many of the younger wolves, they didn't particularly seem to care about it; finding someone to be with forever wasn't really on their minds.

But for the older ones – Seth, who was now nineteen and desperately wishing for an imprint to share his kind-heartedness with, and a few others – imprinting was very much on their minds. Should they just forget about it for the moment, and go about life as normal, dating women as normal guys? Or should they wait, always hoping?

Me, I'd kind of compromised. If I met someone, I met someone; and if I liked them I'd date them, imprint or not. Not actively seeking someone out, but not avoiding it either. But though I'd long since lost my love and obsession for Bella, I had yet to meet anyone who caught my eye; until today.

Today, everything had changed.

* * *

_Thea's POV_

While it didn't take me at all long to _fall_ asleep, _staying_ asleep was a completely different story. At first it was the thought of Jake – fresh on my mind from my dream – that kept me awake. But then the memories started; memories of a time long ago, memories about _why_ I wasn't allowed here, memories about how it had all come to pass. They haunted me; swirling through my mind, flashing before my eyes in a never-ending stream.

But even worse were the memories about my father. I wanted to remember him – truly, I did – but that didn't make them any less painful. Remembering that which I could never have, but oh so dearly wanted; it was bittersweet to say the least. And with today being the anniversary of his death, the sadness was even sharper, and more consuming, than usual.

The combination of exile, Jake, and my father on my mind was too much to bear.

Slipping from beneath the covers that were tangled all around me from my restlessness, I easily slipped through the dark house. Though I'd never been here before today, my eyes were better than most, and it was without trouble that I found the front door, unlocking it and pulling it open. The cool breeze that washed over me was nice on my bare skin; I was wearing just a singlet and pyjama shorts as I headed outside, closing the door behind me with a soft click.

La Push air; I loved La Push air. There was just something about it – maybe it was the fact that it was forbidden, maybe it was the familiarity, or maybe it was the intoxicating mix of ocean and forest – that never failed to make me smile. For a moment, for a second, I forgot all about the reason I was out here standing on the porch in the first place.

But then the moment ended, and my memories came surging back to the forefront of my mind, and my smile turned into a frown. With a huff, I dropped down onto the wooden stairs, leaning back against the side railing as I stared off into the night, clutching my legs to my chest and resting my head on my knees. The sky was dark and black; the usual Washington clouds covering the stars and moon, and rendering the trees surrounding me nothing back indistinguishable silhouettes.

And so it was, with nothing to distract me, that I began to think; and just as I expected, my mind when straight to one of the topics _didn't_ want to think about.

Sera and I had talked about my options; options about what to do about Jake before I left. We had both refused to consider staying in La Push as an option, because it really wasn't; we both knew that leaving was inevitable. But there was an option, a compromise of the two, that we both avoided like the plague.

We avoided even thinking about the possibility of alternating; of staying in La Push a few day, leaving for a few days, and then repeating. I wasn't going to lie; on the surface, this option looked like a dream come true. It let me stay in La Push – in a fashion – and it let me live back home; without dying because of it.

The key words in that sentence were '_on the surface_'. While the idea itself was good, there were other factors that made this option even more unappealing than option 4: staying and dying. Because not only was I going to die if I tried it, but I was going to die _painfully_. Dying of poison didn't sound particularly appealing, but it was better, a _thousand_ times better, than the death that would come at _his_ hand.

The hand of the man who had been responsible for exiling me from La Push in the first place.

Just banishing me had _never_ been enough for him. He _hated_ me; hated me with a passion that I just couldn't understand. 36 years ago, when he had cast me out, he had tried to kill me. He had tried _very_ hard to kill me. And if he hadn't be so dead set on dragging it out, on killing me slowly and painfully instead of just getting it done, he would have succeeded. As it was, I escaped with my life; barely. I would always bear the scars he had given me, but that wasn't the problem.

The problem was he was still alive, still a werewolf, and _still trying to kill me_. Though, admittedly, I didn't think he was trying very hard. As a werewolf, it would be all too easy for him to track me, but I had run into him only a few times over the years. And almost all of those times had been in and around La Push.

He watched La Push, I knew it. He regularly visited; often not showing his face in town, but lurking in the forest. He was good at that; lurking. He had knack for hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right moment; and then appearing out of the blue before you even knew he was there.

He was the _other_ reason that staying in La Push, or even near La Push, for more than three days was _never_ an option. Because while the poison wouldn't kill me if I obeyed by the rules, given the chance, _he _most certainly would.


	7. Secrets

**Chapter 7 - Secrets**

_Jacob's POV_

With too many thoughts on my mind to sleep, it was with relief that I had let the wolf take over; let it run, let it hunt, let it prowl. I was too distracted, too preoccupied, to really care where the wolf took me. The only thing I really knew was that I was running, and that I was running _fast_.

The speed was one of the reasons I loved being a werewolf. The wind tearing at my fur, my claws digging into the cool soil before launching me forwards; it was effortless and familiar. Running made me feel free, made me relax; it let me channel my emotions, let my thoughts run wild. There was nothing I had to do, no place I had to go; there was just simply the world, flying passed in a blur.

And it was times like this, times when the rest of the world seemed so distant it was barely there, that I liked to think.

And tonight, I was thinking about her. I was feeling her; feeling her every emotion, feeling her very being. Feeling the distance between us; distance that felt like a never-ending chasm, one that seemed to only be growing with time. She felt restless, and it was making me restless. She also felt inexplicably sad; an overwhelming, all-consuming sadness. A sadness that until now, I had been feeling just slight hints of; sudden flashes that were always repressed.

Now, though; now it was taking over. She felt lost, she felt drowned; she felt overpowered.

A need to know _why_, a need to stop it flared to life within me. She should not be sad; I did not want her to be sad. She didn't feel right sad; she should be happy. She should be happy and she should be smiling, and better yet, she should be smiling at me.

But she wasn't. She needed… something. Something that I couldn't identify from the bond, something that I didn't think she even had words for. She was reaching, reaching and searching, the bond growing taut and pulling at me fiercely with her need.

That was as much of an invitation as I needed. Without me realising it, the wolf had already started taking me closer to her, an unconscious response to her pull. It wanted to go to her, and with the imprint tugging ever more strongly, I couldn't disagree.

Because while I was fairly sure it was just wishful thinking on my part, I couldn't shake the feeling that the something she was searching for, the thing she needed, was _me_.

* * *

_Thea's POV_

I felt it the moment Jake started heading in my direction. I couldn't help but sigh softly at the knowledge, part of me wishing that he was in fact heading for _me_, but fairly sure his change in direction was pure happenstance. It was, after all, around two in the morning, and he was probably going home to sleep, as any sane, _normal _person would.

But as I felt him grow ever closer, not veering away from his path – one that seemed to lead directly to me – I began to hope.

I was being smothered, surrounded by my thoughts; bad thoughts, sad thoughts, depressing thoughts. Thoughts I couldn't shake, thoughts that wouldn't go away, thoughts that haunted me. They were strong, so strong; digging their way into the deepest corners of my mind, sinking roots into every recess they could find.

They would not go away. No matter how much I wanted them to, no matter how much I _needed_ them to, they refused to disappear; but I _desperately_ wanted them to.

I didn't know if Jake could help; Jake, who I'd known for all of half a day and had one conversation with. All I knew was that Jake was coming, even though it was two in the morning, and that despite the fact that I barely knew him, I already felt better because of it.

There was something about his presence – his very being – that I couldn't help but respond to. His proximity, his closeness; it affected me in ways that it shouldn't; not in a normal world. In a normal world, I should not feel better simply because he was near. In a normal world, I shouldn't be able to sense him across the reservation, and we shouldn't be so tightly bound by the imprint that it was a physical relief to have him close.

This wasn't a normal world; a fact that I was very much glad for as my eyes caught sight of his tall form striding through the trees. If this was a normal world, and we were normal people, this situation would be beyond strange. But for us – or for me at least – it was both familiar and comforting to watch him approach me. I couldn't repress the soft smile that formed on my lips, and I didn't want to; it meant I got to watch him smile at me in return, his grin captivating in the darkness.

'You do know it's almost two in the morning, right?' Jake asked, seeming completely at ease as he joined me on the stairs, lithely draping himself over them and bracing his back against the rail opposite mine. It was impossible not to watch his body as he did so; his tanned chest beautifully muscled, his abs rippling as he moved.

'I could ask you the same question.' I responded, and he chuckled, making me smile.

'I'm not the one sitting outside my house in the middle of the night.'

'And walking around the rez is better?' I felt a flash of emotion through the bond, but he stifled it almost instantly; fast enough that I couldn't pick up what it was. He gave me a considering look before he responded.

'I suppose not. But I'm not tired; you, however, look dead on your feet.' I gave him a sad smile, and his tone softened.

'Can't sleep?' He queried, and I nodded; he gave me a sympathetic smile.

'I never sleep well here.' I said quietly.

'Why not?' He asked, surprise colouring his tone.

'Bad memories.' I said, sighing.

'You don't like it here?'

'No, I do. But bad memories always seem to stick around more than the good ones.' I said, somewhat forlornly. He nodded at that, smiling ruefully.

'I can understand that.' He paused for a moment, seemingly debating something, before speaking.

'You weren't surprised to see me.' It was a statement, but he phrased it as a question. 'Do you usually meet up with people at two in the morning?' He asked with a grin, and I laughed, smiling as I shifted position, crossing my legs and letting my hands fall to my lap.

'No,' I said, a hint of a smile still playing with my lips as I shook my head. 'I felt you coming.' I said quietly, glancing at him as I spoke, my hand impulsively lifting to hover over my heart. Jake was giving me a curious look, his eyes strangely fierce as he processed my words.

'You know about the imprint.' He half asked, half stated, still staring as he tilted his head slightly in curiosity. I nodded, meeting his gaze.

'How?' He questioned, confusion lacing his words.

'It was kind of hard not to notice. I almost passed out, remember?' I replied, and he smiled despite himself.

'You know that's not what I meant.' I laughed softly, and gave him an amused look. I didn't answer, having to repress a smile as I saw his eyes flicker with realisation.

'You're not going to tell me, are you?' He asked with slight frustration.

'Nope. It's-'

'A secret?' He cut me off, giving me a knowing look. I grinned.

'Yes.'

'Is everything about you a secret?'

'Almost everything.'

'Are you ever going to tell me?'

'Maybe.'

'Only maybe?'

'Well, I might tell you some of my secrets. But not all of them.'

'Why not all of them?'

'Because that would take forever.' He raised his eyebrows at that.

'Really?'

'Yes, really.' He still looked unconvinced. 'Jake, I could tell you a secret a day for a month and we would get nowhere.' He grinned at that, his eyes lighting up as he responded.

'Well, maybe you should tell me two secrets a day then.' I smiled, laughing softly as I thought it over.

I _wanted_ to tell him. I wanted to spend hours and hours telling him anything and everything. I wanted to confide in him, trust him; I knew I could; I knew he wouldn't protest. But regardless of how much I told him, regardless of how well he knew me, it wouldn't change the facts; the facts being that I was leaving, and if I was smart, never returning. Him knowing me would only make it harder when the separation inevitably came. But with the look he was giving me – his gorgeous brown eyes filled with mingled curiosity and hope – and his beautiful smile still directed my way, I couldn't refuse.

'I'll tell you three secrets,' I eventually decided, and Jake smiled widely. 'If you tell me one of your secrets in return.' If anything, my condition only made him grin wider.

Oh hell, this was a bad idea; I was going to regret this bitterly when the time came. But I wanted – I so _desperately_ wanted – to know him. Even if it was impossible and a recipe for disaster, I wanted to be with him as much as I could in the time I had. It was selfish, so selfish, and it was going make things harder than they should be, but I couldn't bring myself to change my mind; not with him giving smiling like I'd just made his day.

'Deal.' He agreed, holding out his hand for me to shake. I took it, his large palm dwarfing my own small one, the warmth soaking in. It wasn't often that people felt warm to me, with my temperature being higher than most, but Jake was warm; and in all the best ways. But too soon the warmth was gone, our hands no longer touching, me no longer feeling strangely content at his simple touch. Instead, the contentment was replaced by sadness at the absence of the contact; an absence that shouldn't be as noticeable or dismaying as it was.

'So what did you want to know?' I asked, trying to blink away the melancholy that was descending upon me. I turned my gaze to Jake, expecting to hear his usual upbeat reply as he smiled his easy grin; instead, I was surprised to see the puzzled frown he wore, his eyes trained dazedly on the wall of trees surrounding us. He didn't seem to have heard me at all; in fact, he didn't look as if he had any idea where he was.

It was with hesitance that I reached out, gently nudging his knee with my foot and resting it there as I spoke.

'Jake?' I asked quietly, my eyes wide as I watched him. He jolted slightly at my touch, his eyes flying open as he shook his head to clear it.

'Are you okay?' I ventured softly, and he gave me an apologetic smile.

'Sorry. I was-'

'Distracted?' I finished for him with a slight smile, and he grinned.

'Yes. But I do know what I want to ask you.' I perked up with interest, silently indicating for him to ask, my curiosity flaring and making me forget all about his strange silence just moments earlier.

'It's about your sister, Sera.'

'What about her?' I asked, having a slight inkling of where this was going.

'I always thought she was an only child.'

'She is.' I couldn't help but grin at his confused expression.

'Ok, so Sera isn't my sister by blood, and Ani technically isn't my niece either.'

'But you still call her your sister? Why?'

'The same reason you call your pack members brothers. If you're close enough to someone, if you know them well enough, if you care for them, why shouldn't you call them brother or sister?' Jake nodded, smiling softly.

'You know, I think you might be the first person that's explained that to me, as opposed to the other way around.'

'Really?' He nodded.

'You'd be surprised how many people are confused by it.' I gave him a slightly incredulous look.

'But why?' He shrugged.

'Beats me.' We exchanged a look, both of us smiling.

'So, you still owe me 2 secrets.' Jake said, and I grinned.

'I'm guessing you already have one in mind?' I asked, arching an eyebrow at him, and it was his turn to grin in affirmation.

'So, if Ani isn't actually your niece, how come she looks just like you?'

'Just because she's not my niece doesn't mean we're not related. Ani's a …_fourth_ cousin, I think?' Jake raised his eyebrows at that.

'You're not sure?' I shrugged.

'It's hard to track down family that distant.' I defended.

'Even if you are distant cousins, it doesn't explain why you look so similar.' I shrugged again.

'Well, I can't explain that. Genetic fluke, I guess.' He laughed.

I had decided that I loved his laugh; so warm, so rich, so deep and genuine. It was almost as captivating as his smile; a smile that never failed to make me want to smile in return. But I could tell that beneath the smile, Jake was thinking, and thinking hard, and it was that that drove me to speak.

'You have one more secret left.' I said, and he gave me a considering look, not replying as he pondered.

'I think I'm going to keep it.' He said eventually, giving me a playful grin. 'For now.'

'How come? Nothing to ask?' I asked, surprise lacing my words; Jake laughed.

'Quite the opposite; I have too many questions.' That made me smile.

'Well, ask me.' He raised his eyebrows at that. 'What? Not everything about me is a secret.' He grinned.

'Only most things?' He teased, and I laughed softly.

'Only most things.'


	8. Immortal

**Chapter 8 - Immortal**

Conversation flowed so easy between us; it was obvious that he favoured the light, happy and joking banter we always seemed to fall into. But just as easily as he grinned and he laughed, he seemed equally comfortable when our talking strayed to more serious and personal topics.

He hadn't been lying when he'd said he had too many questions, though I was sure he didn't ask the ones he most eager to have answered; they were the secrets, and I had promised him only one. But secrets aside, he seemed to have no problem whatsoever coming up with alternative things to ask me; and I had no problem answering.

It was easy – so easy – to talk to him. Whether we were exchanging joking remarks or I was revealing yet another answer to his eager question, it just felt so _normal_; so natural. There was a comfort, a familiarity; despite the fact that we'd met just hours earlier. I _wanted _to confide in him, wanted him to know me; and I wanted to know him.

At first he had seemed somewhat surprised as I returned his questions, his head tilting slightly as he stared at me in curiosity. But it hadn't taken him long to simply grin and shrug, sinking back into his relaxed sprawl as we talked; and talk we did.

I wanted to know more about the pack; I had never known it was possible for the number of wolves to be so large. Jake's face when I had told him was one of complete surprise; after all, he had never mentioned how many were in the pack. When I had told him the reason I knew – that I could feel them – he turned thoughtful, falling silent for almost a minute before he spoke again. He had never known of imprints, alpha or otherwise, connecting to the rest of the pack, and neither had I. It was a mystery, one we discussed and debated for what felt like forever before we both ran out of ideas.

Of course, we fell right back into talking about it when I also mentioned I could feel the imprints. That shocked Jake even more than the fact that I could feel the pack, because if he couldn't even connect to the imprints, why could I? This was even more of a mystery, and this time, we could come up with barely any ideas as to why it had happened. After at least an hour on the topic, with both of our heads spinning from the confusion, it was with relief that we transitioned to a far less bewildering topic.

Jake wanted to know all about me, about my life; a question that was far easier to answer. I spent most of my time living in Seattle, where I had shared an apartment with Sera until she had moved back home about 8 months ago. I kept busy, often alternating jobs; though my favourite by far was with the police force. I had first gotten into it more than 20 years ago, and always ended up returning after spending time away. Thanks to my inability to age, I had to be careful; here, more than almost anywhere else, they were on the lookout for things out of the ordinary.

Still, despite the danger and risk, I just couldn't stay away. It was a career uniquely suited to me; a career where enhanced senses made all the difference. I could see things others couldn't, hear things they couldn't. If it came to a fight, my safety was never really in doubt; though it rarely did; strength and reflexes meant I could avoid combat almost altogether. But more than all of that, it was beyond satisfying to actually put my talents to good use. I was helping people, saving people; making the world a safer, better place. I was sure I rambled on about it far longer than necessary, and sounded like a brainwashed advertiser for it, but Jake never said anything. In fact, the whole thing seemed to make him strangely happy.

I spent a while trying to figure it out, before I finally ended up just asking him. He replied that not only did he find it interesting, but said he knew exactly how I felt. After all, was he not doing the exact same thing? Protecting the tribe from the supernatural, using his abilities to do so? The idea left me momentarily stunned; I had never thought of it that way. Though once I thought about it, it didn't seem strange at all that we both liked and gravitated towards such similar professions.

After that, our conversation flowed to a different topic, and to yet another topic after that. We talked about anything and everything; about life and friends, likes and dislikes. There was no method, no agenda; the conversation roamed as it will, and we were both content to follow it; talking for no other reason than we wanted to, and simply enjoying it. Hours and hours passed, and still we talked; neither of us acknowledging the fact that my foot was still resting on his knee.

And neither of us admitting how much we were relying on that simple touch.

I needed it; needed it so much that I couldn't bring myself to move away. It was only once the sun's first faint rays began to light up the night, and I reached such a level of exhaustion that I could hardly stop yawning, that I was forced to find the will.

'You should get to bed.' Jake said softly, and I gave him a rueful smile.

'I'm sorry I'm falling asleep on you.' I murmured, and he grinned.

'It's not your fault; I'm the one that kept you up all night talking.' I shook my head, disagreeing.

'I wouldn't have slept anyway.' He stood up, offering me a hand and pulling me to my feet. 'But I think I will now though.' My words were somewhat muffled as I stifled a yawn. Jake's hand still holding mine, I gave him a grateful smile.

'Thank you.' I said softly, touching his upper arm lightly, and he smiled.

'Anytime.' He replied, and after one more second spent staring into his mesmerizing eyes, I turned my gaze away, moving ever so slowly to the front door. It was hard – harder than I expected – to even do that. I had to force myself not to turn back around, because I knew if I did, I wouldn't want him to leave. But as my hand grabbed the doorknob, I couldn't bring myself to turn it.

It wasn't until I heard his soft footfalls as he descended the stairs behind me that I let my head turn to watch him. His bare back and beautifully muscled shoulders moving further and further and away, barely visible in the dim light. He paused at the tree line, as if he felt me watching; maybe he did. My breath hitched as he turned around, giving me a final smile which I returned.

And then he was gone.

* * *

It was with a mixture of sadness and happiness that I slipped back through the dark house, Ani and Sera both still sound asleep. It wasn't surprising; it was only around 5.30 in the morning, too early for anyone to be awake; and way too late for someone to be going to sleep.

With heavy lidded eyes, I slid into bed with a sigh, hoping that the contentment that had pervaded me from Jake's presence would linger around long enough to let me sleep in peace. I didn't have high hopes, but it never hurt to try; a fact that proved more true than ever as I sunk deep into slumber, and slept away the morning.

* * *

I woke to the furious roar of rain thundering down on the house, taking only seconds to wake up and become fully alert; as usual. In the past I had too often been woken from sleep to situations that required immediate attention; so often that now it had become a natural habit. My eyes flickering around the green and white guest bedroom, it was impossible to judge the time with the black clouds coating the sky. Leaning over to read the clock on the nightstand, I was pleasantly surprised to find it just past lunch time; I had slept all through the morning.

Huh. Well, that was unexpected. Historically, I usually spent nights in La Push in a torturously restless sleep; and I certainly didn't stick it out for more than eight hours. Last night – or rather, this morning – however, had been different. Sure, I had still woken multiple times, but the dreams had been few and short, and my sleep far deeper than usual; and I knew just who I had to thank.

Jake.

Talking with him last night had been wonderful. Even without the imprint, I got the feeling I would have gravitated toward him. We got along so well, talking for hours and hours as if we hadn't just met. But best of all was the fact that for once, I actually got to be truthful.

I didn't have to pretend to be 20 and human, I didn't have to make up the story of my life, and I didn't have to avoid awkward questions about body heat; I didn't have to lie at all.

If only I didn't have to leave. I _always_ had to leave. I was immortal; I didn't age. It meant that when I met someone, when I became friends someone, I had a maximum of five years before I would have to disappear. It meant knowing that every time I made a friend, I was going to lose them.

And now, when I'd _finally_ met someone who already knew all about my immortality, I had less time than ever.

It was times like this when I really wished I_ wasn't_ immortal.

Immortality; immortality was a funny thing. Some people it suits, some people it doesn't. For people who want to experience the world, who want to travel and try new things, immortality is a blessing. They have forever to explore. It doesn't bother them that to watch everyone they know and meet die, because they never get close to anyone.

But then there are those that _need_ relationships. People who don't care so much about doing and seeing things, but more about who they meet. People who are perfectly happy staying in one spot and never exploring, because they live for their friends and family, and don't care so much about the rest. And for these people, watching everyone die, losing everyone; it's torture. Immortality is a curse.

I'd tried to be the first type of person; tried travelling instead of socialising. But I'd always known that wasn't me. I was a friendly person; I liked talking with people, meeting people. Experiencing the world held no appeal for me if there was no one to share it with.

For me, immortality wasn't a blessing. Despite the pain, I still made friends, in spite of knowing I'd lose them; after all, it was better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all. And there were those small few friends, friends that knew the truth; friends I didn't have to leave because they _knew_ I was immortal.

Most didn't know the reason; most just knew that for some unknown reason, I didn't age. There were a handful that knew why, for one reason or another; Sera was one of them. But regardless of whether or not they knew why I didn't age, it didn't change our closeness. I clung to them, needed them; but they, too, would eventually leave.

And then there was Jake. Jake, who was immortal. Jake, who had imprinted on me; who should have been the answer to everything.

If only I could be so lucky. Because with him, I would have the shortest time of all.

* * *

'You're not seriously going out there, are you?' Sera asked me, her incredulity clear in her disbelieving words. Almost as if to emphasise her point, a loud clap of thunder rumbled through the air, muffled by the ruckus that was the rain pouring down on the house. Pausing in my path from the bedroom to the front door, I veered around the corner to see Sera in the kitchen, giving me a pointed look. I grinned back innocently, and she rolled her eyes.

'I'll take that as a yes.' She muttered, and my smile widened. Making my way over to the kitchen bench, I leant over it, resting my weight on my elbows. 'I just don't understand the appeal, though. I mean, it's bucketing out there. You'll be soaked in seconds, which would make anyone miserable. But you, for some reason, _like it_.' I shrugged at her words.

'I like the rain.' I said nonchalantly.

'I know that. I just don't understand _why_?' Another shrug.

'I like how it smells. I like catching drops in my mouth, and I like feeling it on my skin.' She gave me a skeptical look, and I laughed.

'I know, I know; I'm insane.'

'Completely.' She agreed.

'I'm still going for a run.'

'In the middle of a storm?'

'Yep.' She held her hands up in surrender.

'Well, I tried.' I smiled softly, hugging her and giving her a soft peck on the cheek.

'Be back soon.' I said, and with a wave, I slipped through the front door and into the down pour.

* * *

Unsurprisingly, I was soaked in seconds. The steady pounding of the droplets against my skin made me shiver slightly in pleasure, and I couldn't help but smile at the sensation as I disappeared into the trees. Pausing for a moment to decide on my direction, I threw myself forward with a grin: I just loved to run.

I loved seeing the trees flash past me, I loved the wind tearing at my clothes and streaming my hair out behind me. I loved the speed; speed that was so obviously supernatural that I had to be careful, so careful, that no one ever saw me. The exhilaration, the adrenaline that was coursing through my veins; it was intoxicating. It made me push myself faster, stretching my legs to their limits as I all but flew through the trees.

Running; running was good. It was hard to worry, hard to fret, when you were moving so fast that the world was almost a blur. My thoughts could run wild in the back of my mind, there but diluted, leaving the forefront of my mind free to simply _be_. It was both relaxing and thrilling, calming and exciting. But the strange mix of peace and enjoyment that had settled over me was completely dwarfed by the surprise that assaulted me as an unexpected voice suddenly called out from behind me.


	9. Race

**Chapter 9 - Race**

'What are you doing?' I skidded to a stop at the sweet and deep rumbling sound of Jake's voice, spinning on the spot to see him watching me as he leant against a nearby tree. My eyes were wide as my gaze met his, shock still flowing through my veins; how on earth had he crept up on me?

I could feel his presence, his proximity, but I had been so immersed on my running that I hadn't noticed. Or rather, I had noticed, but it hadn't registered. It was disorienting to realise he could sneak up on me so easily; and slightly worrying. I liked to think I was on alert for these sorts of things, _especially_ in La Push.

Yet here he was. Straightening up from his relaxed position, his eyes alight with amusement, the wet strands of his hair messily arranged in a way that made his already attractive face even handsomer. Even through the rain it was easy to watch him as he walked over to me, my body still frozen in surprise.

'You didn't answer my question.' He said, making the statement a question. I blinked, shaking my head slightly to clear it.

'Sorry. I was surprised to see you.' I couldn't hide the hint of confusion from my words, and Jake gave me a curious look, a silent question in his eyes. 'I thought I would have felt you coming, like before.' Without me knowing, we had started walking, the rain still falling as we made our way through the trees.

'So why didn't you?' He asked.

'I was distracted. But even then…' I trailed off, thinking, glancing at Jake as I did so. 'Why is it that you're the only one who can sneak up on me?' He grinned.

'Werewolf instincts.'

'I suppose. But you're not the only one with supernatural abilities.' He thought it over.

'Well, maybe it's because I'm _extra_ good at being sneaky. Being alpha's got to count for something, right?' I laughed, my smile wide as I agreed.

'Right. So, what are you doing out in the rain?' I queried.

'I asked you first.' I smiled softly at his words.

'I was running.'

'In the rain?'

'Yes.'

'Why?'

'I like the rain.'

'You like being soaked and getting sick afterwards?' He asked, confusion lacing his tone. I shrugged.

'I like feeling the rain. And as for getting sick; I've never had a cold in my life, I doubt I'm going to get one now.'

'Why not?'

'The same reason you don't. Temperature.' I grabbed his hand in example, and we both smiled at the contact.

'That doesn't explain why you were running.'

'I like to run. It calms me.' Jake blinked, looking surprised for a moment, before he grinned.

'That's the same reason I like to run.'

'Really?' I asked, and he nodded. 'Then you should run with me then.'

'Run where?' He questioned with a grin, both of us pausing as the trees we had been walking through opened up onto a deserted beach. The rain was still sleeting down, making it hard to see the grey, murky waters of the roiling ocean. The wind was stronger here, blowing the rain into us with force, but neither of us shivered from the cold. Our hands were still interlinked, and it was with reluctance that I slipped my palm from his to point down the beach to the just visible copse of trees at the end.

'Over there. Come on, I'll race you; though I fully expect to lose.' He grinned with amusement.

'If you know I'm going to win, why do you want to race?' He asked with confusion.

'Because it'll be fun to verse someone who's faster than me for once.' I replied, moving a few steps down the beach, and turning to face him. 'So, are you in?' I enquired, brushing my wet hair out of my face as the wind blew through it.

Jake grinned. 'Definitely.' And with that, he strode forward, sliding into a run effortlessly between one step and the next. In barely a second he was breezing passed me, taking my hand and pulling me along behind him before I'd even finished turning around. I had to repress a yelp as I was suddenly jerked forwards, and I thanked the heavens for superhuman reflexes, as without them I would have undoubtedly found myself tripping. As it was, I managed to slide into step with Jake; just in time for him to give me a blinding smile before he tore ahead of me.

Grinning despite myself, I pushed myself into a sprint. We were both practically flying across the beach, the rain slamming into us but not doing a thing to hinder our speed. I'd thought I was enjoying my run before, but this; this was better. Better because not only was the speed intoxicating, but because Jake was running with me. His very presence made me happier; made an already thrilling activity even more exciting.

And it didn't matter that he was – as I had predicted – winning, because when he reached the trees at the end of the beach, me just a second behind him, he turned to give me yet another enrapturing smile; one that I was sure matched my own. His eyes burned with the exhilaration, alight and dancing in a way such that I couldn't tear my gaze away from his.

'I guess you were right about me winning.' He said, and I raised my eyebrows.

'You doubted it?' He shook his head.

'No. But I've learnt to expect the unexpected when it comes to the supernatural.' I nodded, fervently agreeing.

Despite the full out run, neither of us was breathing heavily; the advantage of inhuman stamina, I suppose. Just in case we hadn't already been sopping wet, we were now _thoroughly_ drenched; I felt as if my very skin had soaked up the water. And as much as I loved the rain, and how it felt pounding against my skin, being completely soaked wasn't the most enjoyable experience. My hair was plastered to my cheeks, and I was constantly brushing it out of my eyes as the wind played havoc with it. I was torn between wondering if I would ever be dry again, but wanting to spend more time with Jake, and it was with the hope that maybe I could have both that I spoke.

'Did you want to come back with me to the house to dry off? I don't know about you, but I'm feeling very-'

'Wet?' Jake cut in, looking pleased, and I laughed.

'Yes.'

'Well, we won't get dry standing out here.' He said with a grin, and with a quick jerk of his head to indicate for me to go first, we once again began to walk through the trees.

* * *

'You know, I don't even know your full name.' I said, and Jake's head turned to give me a curious smile.

'Jake.' I gave him an amused look at his reply.

'That is _not_ your full name.' He grinned.

'Jacob. Black.'

'Jacob.' I said softly, trying it out, which for some reason made him smile widely. 'So what, no middle name?' I asked, and he laughed quietly.

'You're being very thorough.' He commented.

'Well, since I think you've asked me about twice as many questions as I've asked you, I've got ground to make up. Plus, I'm curious.' He smiled again at my words.

'Ephraim.' I stopped dead in my tracks at the name, surprising freezing my joints and leaving me staring at him in shock.

'What?' I gasped, as Jake turned to face me with a look that was a mixture of confusion and curiosity. He had immediately caught onto my surprise thanks to the imprint bond, and had paused next to me after taking just a step more than I had.

'Ephraim. My middle name.' I was still gaping at him, my eyes wide and locked on his. I wasn't sure why I was so surprised, but it had been just so unexpected to hear my father's name that I couldn't seem to process it. I knew I had to speak; had to say something because I was still frozen, and concern was slowly blooming in Jake's expression. But it wasn't until he stepped towards me and put his hand on my shoulder, his touch jolting me out of the shock and sadness that had overwhelmed me, that I recovered the ability to speak.

'That was my father's name.' I whispered, so quiet that if Jake hadn't been a werewolf, I wasn't sure he would have been able to hear me. As it was, he now looked nearly as surprised as me, his nearly ever-present grin falling away as he stared.

'What?'

'My father. Ephraim Black.' I repeated, and Jake's eyes widened even more than they already were.

'As in alpha of the last wolf pack Ephraim?' He asked, his tone strangely unreadable. I nodded. 'He was your father?' His voice was soft now, almost a whisper.

'Adoptive father.' I said with a slow nod. Jake was still staring, his expression one of deep thinking. It remained that way for several seconds, before being replaced with a small grin as his eyes lit up with realisation.

'Well, that explains a lot.' He eventually said, and I laughed. His thoughtful expression returned, as his hand slid down my arm from my shoulder and took my hand, leading me forward as we once again began to walk. But we didn't get far before we once again paused, Jake stopping with bewilderment once again etched on his face,

'Wait, you said adoptive father?' He questioned, his voice sounding off as I nodded.

'Yes.' I replied.

'What about your biological father?' He asked carefully, seemingly wary of my response and eh slowly let me hand fall from his. I just shrugged.

'What about him? He was a vampire, and the old pack killed him before I was even born. Thankfully.' Jake looked a bit surprised at the hint of venom in my response.

'You're glad he's dead?'

'Yes.' I said, my eyes filling with uncertainty at Jake's still confused face.

'Why?'

'Because he was a vampire. He killed people. Killed my mother before I was born so I never met her.' I finished sadly. Jake was still staring at me with puzzlement. 'What?' I asked.

'She died _before_ you were born? You know biologically that makes _no_ sense, right?' he said with a mixture of perplexity and amusement.

I just grinned. 'Right.'


	10. Enthralled

**Chapter 10 - Enthralled**

Jake and I were so enamoured in our conversation that I didn't realise we had reached the house until he paused on the tree line. Taking his hand and pulling him after me, I marvelled at how natural this felt. His warm hand covering mine, the electricity of even that simple contact stunning in intensity. We'd only met yesterday, but it certainly didn't feel that way. Not with the way that I was telling him secret after secret without even pausing to think; without needing to question him.

I almost wished it wasn't so easy. Almost wished we hadn't got along, because then the thought of leaving him wouldn't leave me feeling an all-consuming sadness of the like that I had never experienced before. It didn't make sense, it didn't seem reasonable, and it definitely wasn't normal to feel so achingly despondent over someone who yesterday had been a stranger.

Then again, if my life was normal, I'd be in my sixties and retired; which I most certainly wasn't.

But even though I knew not to expect normal, even though I should be beyond surprise at this point, _this_ surprised me. How was it possible, how was realistic, that I was so unbelievably and irresistibly drawn to him? The imprint was supposed to connect him to me, not the other way around. Regardless of him being the alpha, what we had was more. More than just an imprint, more than just attraction and chemistry, and more than just clicking like we'd been friends for years. It was everything; everything I'd just listed, and a dozen things I hadn't. It was more in every way possible.

But it was going to have to go from everything to nothing, and soon, if I wanted to come out of this week alive. And it was that thought that haunted me, that thought that hovered in the back of my mind with everything that Jake did. That thought that made me fight a frown, that forced me to repress the sadness it evoked because I was sure that Jake could feel it. But while I managed to stifle the sharp flares, the intense spikes, I could do nothing about the seemingly permanent melancholy and worry that felt as if it was being etched into my very soul.

* * *

If not for the gentle squeeze Jake's hand gave mine, I wasn't sure if I would have been able to shake myself out of the gloom that settled over me in the short time it took us the cross the yard, rain still sheeting down around us. We were both dripping with water, a puddle growing fast on the wood of the porch as the droplets cascaded down us. I blinked several times in quick succession both to clear my head and get rid of the drops glued to my eyelashes, reluctantly releasing his hand so that I could wring the water from my hair.

When my eyes fell back on him, it was to find him already watching me, his expression one of curiosity. Indicating with a slight head nod for him to follow me, I made my way to the door, unsurprised to find it unlocked; though I couldn't say the same for Jake, who rose his eyebrows.

'What, no lock?' He asked, and I gave him a small smile.

'There is one, we just don't always use it.' I replied.

'And why not?'

'Don't need to. This is La Push, I doubt someone's going to try and break in.' We both laughed at that, the sound echoing down the hallway as I led the way inside, Jake's warm body close behind me. I was sure that Sera would have heard our arrival, and so it was without surprise that I found her concealing her intrigue as she dug through a cupboard on the edge of the kitchen. By her vaguely irritated frown, whatever object she was searching for seemed to be elusive, though she perked up when she took in my appearance and who I was with. She looked torn between giving me an exasperated or knowing look, settling on the former as she took in just how wet we were.

'Oh my god, you're soaking! You know, I told you this would happen.' She said matter-of-factly, though her air of superiority was somewhat spoiled by the small was playing with her lips.

'I know you did. And I said it didn't matter.' I retorted, and she gave me a dubious look that made me laugh.

'Anyway, forget that for now. Jake, this is my sister Sera. Sera, this is Jake.' I introduced, gesturing between them. Sera gave up on ruffling through the cupboard to give him a greeting smile.

'Nice to meet you.' She said, holding out her hand for Jake to shake, which he did with a smile.

'Likewise.' He replied.

'Now, if you give me a sec, I'm going to go and find some towels.' I input, backing out of the kitchen and heading down the hallway as I heard the soft rumblings of a conversation start up behind me. If I'd wanted to, I could have listened in to what they were saying, but instead I tuned them out, humming softly to myself as I approached the linen cupboard. As I opened the door, my gaze roamed up and down the shelves, searching for the towels that I was sure was in here; only to find my humming stopping abruptly as I caught sight of them on the topmost shelf.

A shelf that was _way_ out of my reach.

'You've got to be kidding me.' I muttered, frowning as I gazed despondently up at the pile. At a height of 5' 5, I wasn't short, but I definitely wasn't tall either. But this shelf was close to seven or eight foot above the ground, and well and truly too far away. How on earth was I supposed to reach that? And how the hell had Sera gotten them up there in the first place?

Sighing softly, I resigned myself to the challenge. Reaching up on my tip toes, my hand was still a good half a foot off the mark; I was going to have to jump for it. Bending my knees, I propelled myself upwards, my hand almost managing to brush the bottom of the shelf. Jumping again, this time I managed to clip the edge of the painted wood; though I was still a fair way off from actually being able to grab the towels. I was preparing for my third leap when an unexpected pair of warm hands found my waist, a familiar deep voice coming from behind me.

'Need help?' Jake asked, not waiting for a reply as he easily lifted me up, my still outreached hand snagging the elusive pile and tugging it downwards. His strong fingers pressing into my skin were terribly distracting, sending soft tingles through me that made my breath hitch slightly as he set me down on my feet. With his body pressed against my back, I was reluctant to break the contact by turning to face him, but the urge to see the smile I was sure he wore drove me to spin.

And sure enough, there it was; his beaming grin seeming even more bright in the semi darkness of the cupboard. The hands that had been on my waist had shifted when I turned, now resting on my elbows as I lifted my head up to meet his gaze. We were still close, very close; if not for the towels I had in my arms between us, we would have been pressed together.

'Here, let me.' Jake said, taking the pile off me and moving it to the side in a movement that, for my distracted mind, was almost too fast follow. But my every nerve became more than aware of his movements as he stepped forward, closing the distance between us as he wrapped the topmost towel around my shoulders.

'Thank you.' I murmured, and I wondered if he heard the breathlessness in my voice as I smiled at him.

'You know, you didn't have to tell me all that stuff about your family before.' He said softly. 'You promised me one secret, not ten, and even then I would have understood if you refused.' His hands were still on my shoulders, his eyes tender as he looked down at me.

'I know I didn't have to. But I _wanted_ to tell you, Jake.' I replied, my voice barely louder than a whisper. In the short time it had taken me to speak, his right hand had trailed across my shoulder to my neck, his warm fingers oh-so-gentle as they brushed over my skin.

'Why?' The same hand was now drifting upwards, his thumb stroking my cheek softly as my eyes, which had until now been locked on his searing gaze, dropped slightly to linger on his lips.

'You know why.' I said quietly, my eyes flying back to his enrapturing brown ones as his left arm hooked around my waist. He pulled me across the small distance that separated us so that I was pressed against him, my hands splayed on his chest. His face was close – so close – to mine; all it would take was the slightest movement.

And then he was ever so softly pressing his lips to mine. Despite the softness, the kiss was searing in its intensity, making me melt against him as my body thrummed with the pleasure. It was better than I could have ever imagined, consuming me and making the rest of the world fade in comparison. For once, I wasn't feeling the familiar pang of sadness at the fact that this couldn't last; I couldn't feel anything except for him. I couldn't _think_ of anything except for him.

And it that moment, I didn't want to.


	11. Worry

**C****hapter 11 - Worry**

If not for the loud _clang_ of Sera dropping a pan in the kitchen, I wasn't sure what would have happened in that closet. We had been so distracted by one another, so immersed and ignorant of the rest of the world, that I wondered how long it would have taken us to leave otherwise. Perhaps we would have stayed there for hours, not even noticing time passing. Perhaps he would have kissed me again; the mere thought of which made me smile slightly stupidly as I remembered. But what might have happened wasn't important; what _had_ happened was.

We both jumped at the noise, our surprise double than what it would have been normally. I felt like a deer in headlights as my head jerked in the direction of the sound, Jake mirroring my actions perfectly. Neither of us were breathing as the seconds passed, tense as the shock wore off.

And then I let out my air in a sigh, and laughed. A soft, quiet laughter, further muffled as I let my head fall against Jake's bare chest, unable to resist humming contentedly at the contact. He was chuckling too, his chest rumbling beneath me, the warm and rich sound making me smile. The arm around my waist was still there, something for which I was glad for, because it just felt so _right_ having it there; so right that I found myself lamenting the fact that it was probably going to disappear, and soon.

But the vaguely formed reluctance of having him move away disappeared into oblivion when I raised my head to meet his gaze, and caught his breathtaking smile. I would _never_ tire of seeing this; of seeing his charming grin directed my way, and making me shiver with delight. It was the kind of grin that you couldn't help but smile back at, the grin you couldn't take your eyes off. I could have spent hours staring at it; if not for the fact that he was suddenly releasing me and turning away.

The absence of his touch was immediately clear, my mouth forming a small frown before I'd even properly registered his movement. But my frown turned right back into a smile as he paused in the doorway, turning his head in my direction.

'Come on.' He said, taking my hand and tugging me after him. His grip was warm as he pulled me through the house, heading straight for the front door. Despite this being his first time in the house, he had no problem whatsoever finding it, leading me through it with ease. As we stepped outside, I had to grab for the towel still wrapped around my shoulders as the wind gusted into us, forcing my hair back from my face. It was still raining, and raining hard, the sound of the drops slamming against the house far louder outside.

It was then that I began to wonder where exactly we were heading.

'Jake, where are we going?' I asked, having to speak loudly over the weather. Surely we weren't headed back into the storm? After all, we'd come here to get out of it and dry off, hadn't we?

I got my answer just a second later. Taking an bewildering turn to the left, where there was nothing but the wall of the house and our short veranda, he walked a few paces before easily dropping down to the floor, letting his back slide down the house until he was sat down against it. I had just enough time to raise my eyebrows at him, and to take in his knowing smile in return, before he pulled me down next to him, the unexpected fall making me gasp as I hit the wooden floorboards, my body knocking gently against Jake's in the process.

'Sit with me?' He asked softly, looking down at me. I gave him a reproachful look, but the affect was ruined by the enjoyment I could feel showing on my face.

'Shouldn't you have asked me that _before_ you pulled me down here?' I retorted. Jake laughed, letting his head fall against the wood as he looked down at me.

'Maybe.' He replied, his complete lack of apology making me smile. 'But I've never really be one for asking; I usually just do it.' For some reason, that struck a chord with me, and I turned thoughtful as I mulled it over; though it didn't take me long to figure it out.

'You know, I'm kind of like that as well.' I said with a smile. 'Maybe that's why I like it when you do it to me.' He grinned at that, which was good, because I really hadn't meant to say it. It was true, of course, but that wasn't the kind of thing you usually threw out there when you'd met someone only a day earlier. Still, his happiness, which I could both see on his face and feel through the imprint, was worth it.

It would always be worth it.

* * *

_Jake's POV_

For a moment, I had worried that I'd been _too_ bold; that pulling her down next to me without asking was assuming too much. But while she was trying to give me a look of disapproval, I knew otherwise. The corners of her mouth were upturned as she fought a smile, her eyes dancing with the same happiness I could feel through the bond; happiness that mirrored my own as I remembered the heavenly feeling of her lips against mine.

She was soft, so soft; her small form had moulded against me as I pulled her close, her lips gentle as they met my own. It had been a sweet kiss, so wonderfully sweet, but nowhere near long enough; the taste of her, the feel of her, was too good. Now I could think about was kissing her again, my mind replaying over and over again the memory of it in my mind. I wanted it; wanted it too much.

And it certainly didn't help that she felt the same. She had been sad when I moved away, sad when I had released her; it taken a great deal of restraint not to immediately take her back up in my arms. But I had resisted, resisted that which it seemed we both wanted, because the imprint was telling me to wait.

It was strange, really, to even think of the imprint telling me anything; but it did. Not by speaking, but by feeling, nudging; a feeling of hesitance here, a good feeling somewhere else; there was no way to describe it and do it justice. But nether-the-less it was there, and it was directing me. It urged me to follow her to the linen cupboard, so I did. When I wondered what she would do if I put my hands on her waist to help her, it all but did the movement for me, the compulsion it brought about fierce. And despite the fact that the last thing I wanted to do after kissing her was to release my hold, the imprint told me to – gave me a strange feeling in my stomach – so I, reluctantly, let her go.

Because no matter how much I might want to, there was no fighting the imprint; it was too powerful, and for a reason. I might not know how or why, or understand at all why it wanted me to do something, but there was _always_ a purpose. It was connected to her – knew far more about her than I did – so if it was saying stop, then I was sure as hell going to stop. And while it held no logic whatsoever, and any sane person would think me crazy, so far it was working.

So when I got the feeling in my gut that somehow translated into _wait_, that was what I did. And here I was, sitting against the house, her warm body beside me, wondering. Wondering why the imprint was telling me to be careful, telling me _not_ to put my arm around her shoulders, telling me _not_ to brush away the stray strand of hair that had fallen across her forehead.

Wondering if the restraint the imprint was urging had anything to do with the buried worry and sadness I'd been feeling from Thea constantly since we'd met.

She tried to hide it. Sometimes it would flare up, and she would almost immediately stifle it, shoving it back down into the recesses of her heart so that I could barely get a sense of it. But though she tried not to let me feel it, she couldn't keep it hidden away completely. It was there, all the time, hovering in the background.

And I couldn't help but think about _why_. What was she worried about? What was it that caused her to be seemingly permanently sad? And why was she so determined to hide it?

I wanted to know; I _needed _to know_. _But I couldn't ask. The imprint was telling me to wait, to not speak the questions that were circling round and round my mind. But while I trusted the imprint, I couldn't help but worry.

Even when she smiled at me and told me that she liked me not asking her consent before pulling her beside me – a confession that made me grin because it wasn't in the nature of an alpha to ask permission, and she'd probably experience whole lot more of it of she spent any amount of time with me – I still worried.

For her, I would always worry.

* * *

The hour that followed went fast; too fast. So fast that it seemed barely a minute had passed, when in reality it had been so much more. And all because talking to Thea had become one of new favourite things to do.

It was effortless. I didn't have to watch what I said, which was a luxury I rarely had these days. When such a major part of my life was a secret from all but a small few, simple conversation required care; but not with her. She knew about the supernatural; she _was_ supernatural. And it was surprisingly how much of a relief it was to let down my guard. But it was more than just not having to hide.

She was so _easy_ to talk to. I wanted to tell her things, had an irrational urge to spill all my secrets. What really struck me was for once, I actually _had_ secrets. I was so used to the pack knowing every thought in my head that it was almost strange that she didn't. She didn't know my secrets; but I wanted her too. And even more than that, I wanted to know hers.

Not just her secrets, but the little things too. I wanted to know everything; and I would, eventually. I had only known her less than two days; it was impressive that she had already told me as much as she had. Still, I wanted to know more.

But more would have to wait. I'd been monopolising her time lately, and while I wasn't the least bit sorry about it, I couldn't say I was surprised when she excused herself, saying she'd promised to spend the rest of the day with her sister and niece. And while the imprint didn't particularly like the idea of letting her go, and thought it was perfectly acceptable to not let her ever leave her side, I knew it wasn't.

And so it was with reluctance that I watched her disappear into the house, having to content myself with the fact that this what she wanted, and that that was what important. The smile she sent me as she headed inside was enthralling, making the imprint throb, and for a moment, making me forget that she was walking away from me. But it didn't take long for me to feel her absence as I walked through the forest, and just as I had been ever since we'd first met, I found myself once again contemplating the enrapturing mystery that was Thea.

* * *

_Thea's POV_

The ear-splitting scream that tore through the air was easily the most horrifying thing I'd ever heard. I felt my eyes widen and fill with an irrepressible panic, the sound freezing me in my tracks as it stole my breath away. It had come from the south of the woods, the direction I had been heading in, and there was only really one place that scream could have come from. I had to bite back the sick feeling that assaulted my stomach, finding myself whispering a name without consciously meaning to.

'Aunt Cass?' It was the broken, barely audible croak that broke me out my stunned fear. I threw myself into a sprint, thrashing through the forest wildly, not caring as the branches and twigs tore at my clothes and caught in my hair. When the small wooden cabin I was after came into sight through the trees, I heave a sob of relief, fighting back the shakes that threatened my limbs as I burst through the doorway.

And immediately wished I hadn't.

At first it didn't register that the horrified scream searing my ears was my own. I had gone numb, the sound fuzzy and distant to my ears, the world spinning on its axis as I slumped against the doorway, clapping my hand over my mouth. My eyes couldn't move away from the terrible sight before me, my mind refusing to process the body. Even as I recognised that the red liquid pooling on the floor could be nothing but blood, my brain refused to accept it. It wasn't until I hit the floor with my knees, the shock jolting out of my paralysis, that the truth of the situation rammed home.

That there was in fact a body strewn across the floor, that the body was covered in blood, and that the body was my aunt.

Letting out a heart breaking wail, I lurched across the wooden floor, tears blurring my vision as I quickly covered the yards that separated us. Even as I reached her side, keening as my knees almost slipped in the warm red blood that coated the floor, the tears were spilling down my cheeks, my lips quivering.

'Cass? Aunt Cass? Oh, please, please…' I sobbed, my hands twisting and writhing in the air over her body as I frantically searched for something to do, something to save her. Her eyes were closed, and I couldn't see her chest moving from her breaths, fear blooming uncontrollably within me. She couldn't die; I wouldn't let it happen.

'Please don't be dead. You can't be dead, Cass, you just can't!' I croaked, but I was only crying harder as my eyes reluctantly took in the large and deep slash across her stomach. My hands ever so delicately traced the wound, the shear amount of blood that coated my hands making me wail softly, my whole body shaking with the heaving sobs that were wracking my frame. Moving my trembling hands to her neck, I found her pulse point, unable to repress another horrified cry when I found nothing.

'No! No no no no no!' I wept, shaking my head furiously as my fingers trailed over her motionless face, feeling the unnatural coldness of her skin the confirmed that which I knew, but didn't want to accept. 'You can't- I can't- I won't-' I couldn't even form a proper sentence any more, my mouth speaking disjointed phrases because my brain and heart were being crushed by the devastating truth.

She was dead.


	12. Pain

**Chapter 12 - Pain**

It just couldn't be true. I talked to her just this morning, laughing and chatting over breakfast as we did every Friday; there was no way she could be dead. But as much as I wanted to refuse that which was right in front of me, I couldn't. The truth was sinking in, pressing down on me as if the weight of the world was on my shoulders.

She was dead.

She. Was. Dead.

My mind was on repeat, my mouth opening and closing to speak, but saying nothing. I was consumed by sobs, my cries and keens loud and piercing, the grief feeling as if was going to tear me apart.

I would never talk to Aunt Cass again. We would never do _anything_ again. Cass, the woman who'd help raise me, who had been the person I'd gone to about _everything_, was gone. So what if she wasn't my aunt by blood? The pain I was feeling was just as fierce, if not stronger, than what I'd be feeling if she was.

Pain that was only growing sharper – if that was even possible – as another truth slowly began dawning on me.

This was no accident.

The gaping wounds across her stomach were proof of that, the thick red blood unquestionable evidence. It was one thing to know she was dead, but another thing entirely to know that someone had killed her. The thought made me moan, the tears that were already pouring down my cheeks somehow managing to flow even faster.

Why? How? Who? It was too horrible to even think; almost as sickening as the thought of how painful it must have been. My stomach churned at the idea, another pained moan escaping my quivering lips.

She hadn't deserved this; no one deserved this. To be murdered in your own home; it was horrifying. What evil, remorseless being would do such a thing?

That was the million dollar question.

I would find them. I would find who had done this. Not now, of course, but I would; eventually.

But for now, I would mourn. I would stay by her side until the pain lessened enough that I could bring myself to leave; if it ever_ did_ lessen_._

But almost as soon as I decided, that plan was ruined by the hands and arms that lightly grabbed me, and pulled me away.

I didn't fight the warm fingers that grasped my shoulders, too grief-stricken to care. Too weak and crushed to fight, all I could do was sob harder as I was tugged to my feet and across the room; _away_ from Aunt Cass. I let out another wail at the sight of her body as we reached the doorway, stretching out a blood covered arm for her, taking a step back inside; I wasn't leaving. She might be dead, but the least I could was stay with her. Then, at least, I could feel like I'd done _something_. But whoever had me in their arms wasn't having that, and all too easily pulled me backwards once again.

Still sobbing, the heaves wracking my body almost violently, what little resistance I'd managed to muster faded as they drew me away. My eyes were so filled with tears that I didn't even attempt to look around me; or try to discover the identity of whoever was keeping me upright. It was hard to care about anything when I was reeling from the loss of my Cass.

My Cass. Two words that made me keen for what was probably the millionth time, somehow being able to make my already burning heart ache even worse. I felt my legs crumple, and would have fallen to the floor if the arms holding me up hadn't strengthened their hold, half carrying, half dragging me through the woods. For what purpose, I had no idea, but I didn't really care; I didn't care about anything.

Not until the emotional pain that was searing through me was overshadowed by the sickening cold that suddenly washed over me, as if I'd jumped into a frozen pool in the middle of winter. Tremors suddenly took control of me, my whole body shaking from the icy feeling. I could feel my limbs stiffening, my chest tightening, and would have croaked out a question as to what the hell was going on, if not for the sudden horrible sensation of being stabbed in the stomach.

Stab. Stab. Stab.

It wouldn't stop, the agony driving me to my knees as I let out a hoarse scream. It was a hot knife, it was a freezing cold blade, and it seemed like it was never going to end. Again, and again, and again, making me cry out every time as it sliced through me, pierced me, crippled me.

And with every stab there was a voice, a voice saying my name. I would hear it, I'd be stabbed, and I would scream. Over, and over again.

'Thea.'

Stab.

Scream.

'Thea.'

Stab.

Scream.

'Thea, wake up.'

Stab.

Scream.

'Thea!'

* * *

'Thea!'

I sat up fast with a soft cry, my eyes flying open as my left hand instinctively grasped for the knife tucked in the small of my back, slashing it in a wide arc in front of me before I had the chance to even think about what I was doing. My mind was still locked in my horrifying dream, and so I couldn't even muster any surprise when a warm hand suddenly grabbed my wrist, disarming me of the blade so fast that it seemed as if it had simply vanished into thin air. Widening my eyes in an effort to help them adjust to the darkness quicker, it took me a few seconds to make out the large figure in the darkness, perched on the bed in front of me and looking at me with an expression that was a mixture of concern and surprise.

'I'm sorry!' I gasped at Jake, blinking frantically to try and clear my head as I clapped my free hand over my mouth in horror. I couldn't believe that he was right here in front of me, sitting on the bed in nothing but jeans, let alone believe the fact that I had just attacked him. My brain seemed stuck in the all too vivid memories that had haunted my dreams, refusing to snap back into reality; I was still half convinced I was still in danger from the torturous stabbing. Even though I knew I was safe with Jake, the imprint reassuring and comforting with his close proximity, I couldn't seem to relax. I was tense, alert; waiting for the attack.

It must have shown in my eyes and posture, because as I stared at him, and he stared at me, his worry only intensified, his dark brown eyes searing as his free right hand cupped my cheek, tilting my head up slightly as he spoke.

'Thea?' His voice was slow, deep, cautious, the only sound in the room apart from my fast and loud breaths. Just the sound of it made me pause for a moment, my breathing slowing in pace and my eyes closing for a moment as it rolled over me.

'I'm fine.' I whispered, so quiet I was surprised he heard it. Opening my eyes once more, his worry was now mixed with a touch of disbelief and amusement.

'Really?' He asked, his dubious tone showing the same emotion I'd seen in his expression. I opened my mouth to respond 'yes', but closed it almost immediately, because I was sure he knew as well as I that I wasn't; at least, not completely. Involuntarily letting out a low whining noise, I debated what to reply.

'No. Yes. Maybe? I don't know.' I said softly, shaking my head slightly.

'What were you dreaming about?' He asked carefully, and I was sure he noticed my breath hitching.

'Nothing.' I murmured, and once again he levelled me a doubtful look.

'You and I both know that's not true.' He replied quietly.

'I was just…remembering something.' I said glumly, lowering my eyes as I shuddered slightly. I was sure he felt it, because his body tensed beside me. Reluctant to answer him in more detail, I changed the topic. 'How did you even get in here?' I asked, and he smiled slightly, though I could tell he knew what I was avoiding.

'Through the window.' I glanced over his shoulder, and sure enough, the window was propped open wide, the curtains fluttering slightly in the light breeze. There was a pause before he spoke again. 'I could feel your emotions from across the rez, so I came to check on you.'

'Thank you.' I said softly, my gaze flicking back to his. I gave him a small smile in gratitude, but his eyes were still fierce as they watched me, and I could tell that he was thinking about what _kinds_ of emotions he'd been getting; fear and shock, pain and grief. I could feel his concern through the imprint, and I knew that it would take some convincing to dissuade it.

'I'm okay, Jake.' I whispered, placing my right hand over his where it still cupped my cheek. He gave me a slightly pained look in return, hiding it so quickly that I wasn't sure he'd mean to let me see it.

'Maybe I'd believe that, if you weren't still trembling.' He said carefully. I stiffened at his words, my right hand falling back to my lap. I sighed before I replied.

'I _will_ be fine, eventually. But I need to stop thinking about it. Distract me?' I asked quietly, and his gaze softened.

'How?' He rumbled, and I shrugged.

'Talk to me.'

'About what?' I smiled slightly.

'Surprise me.'

* * *

_Jake's POV_

I had been almost scared by the intensity of her emotions as they had pummelled into me through the bond, a confusing mess of grief, fear and hurt. The wolf had reacted instinctively, snarling furiously and sending me flying across the ground in her direction before my mind even had the chance to process what was going on. It took more effort than it should to reel in the wolf part of me, the part that wanted to rage and kill whoever was responsible. But eventually I did, because the wolf knew as well as I did that she was sleeping, and as much as I might want to, I couldn't kill someone that was in her dreams. I could, however, do the next best thing. And so I had slipped through her window, waking her panting and frantically tossing body from the nightmare that was terrorising her; only for her to suddenly attack me with a knife she had seemingly grabbed from nowhere.

It wasn't that attack that worried me; I was fast, faster than her, and even then the knife was no real threat. What was far more worrying was the reason she had a knife on her to begin with, and why exactly she had apparently trained herself to attack anyone in her bedroom at only the slightest sound or movement.

And then she had given me that look; her eyes so fear filled and panicked as they stared practically through me that it made my worry sky rocket. That was until I touched her, spoke to her, her body calming almost immediately. Another time I would have grinned knowing I had that kind of influence, but not today. Because her body was still tense, still prepped for a fight despite my presence, and that was deeply, deeply worrying.

Almost as worrying as the fact that I still didn't know what she'd been dreaming about to begin with. But she didn't want to tell, didn't want to say anything about it, and as my imprint, there wasn't much at all I could do if it went against her wishes. She did, however want me to stay with her, and that was enough to quell my concern for now, even though she was, as I'd said, still trembling.

Thankfully, over the next half hour, what little panic that remained from the dream disappeared. Just as she'd said, our conversation was exactly what it took to calm her down, so much so that her composure was flowing through the imprint to me, the calmness making it hard to worry about anything when she smiling at me like that. Stretched out on her side across the bed, her hair splayed across the sheets as she gazed up at me; it was more than bit distracting, and it was easy to forget my concerns.

That was until she rolled onto her back, stretching her arms up above her head, her thin singlet rising up to show a few inches of her lightly tanned stomach.

A stomach that was marked with four thick, deep scars that ran diagonally across her skin.


	13. Scars

**Chapter 13 - Scars**

_Jake's POV_

My whole body stiffened, my calm completely destroyed by the rage that blew through me, making me growl as my eyes took it in. I couldn't tear my gaze away from her scarred stomach, pausing mid-sentence because my emotions had taken over, and I couldn't think of anything but those four forbidding gashes.

Someone had hurt her. Someone had_ hurt _her. The thought made me sick to my stomach, filling me with the conflicting urges of hunting down whoever had touched her, and pulling her in my arms and never letting anyone hurt her again. I felt as if I was being torn apart by the warring desires, my emotions almost completely blocking out hers for the first time since I'd imprinted, the loss leaving me surprisingly saddened. And it was that more than anything that gave me the strength and will to choke out the question I desperately needed answered.

'What is that?!' I half snarled, forcing my eyes away to meet Thea's, taking in her confused expression. Flicking my eyes back to the horrifying scratches, she followed my gaze, her face tightening as she realised what had angered me so.

'Jake…' She said softly, warily, but I was already moving from my sitting position against the bed's headboard, shifting forwards to my knees so that I could almost touch her, my hands hovering just an inch above her skin as they traced over the paths of the scars. I was trembling, my voice shaky as I spoke.

'Who did this to you?' My voice was slow, deep, dangerous; there was no mistaking the anger in it. She opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it again, looking torn. I could feel through the imprint bond her fear, her hesitance, her anger, her emotions only fuelling and increasing my own. Since she hadn't protested my approach, I let my hands brush against the marks, my fingers trailing ever so slowly and gently across the raised flesh. Another growl, this one more from pain than anger, escaped me as I let my palm splay across her stomach, my large hand reaching across all four of the scars.

'Who. Did. This?' I repeated, somehow managing to sound even more furious than before thanks to the hurt edge of my tone. I could feel that my eyes were flashing with a mixture of anger and pain as my gaze flitted to meet hers, waiting for her to answer.

'Jake, it doesn't matter-'

'_Doesn't matter_?! It looks like they tried to claw your stomach out!' I growled, my voice radiating the horror and fury I was feeling. She sighed, seemingly resigning herself to the fact that I wasn't going to drop the issue.

'I think that was the idea.'

* * *

_Thea's POV_

'I think that was the idea.' Jake froze at my softly spoken words, before snarling again.

'What do you mean _that was the idea_?!' He said, sounding even angrier now, if that was even possible. His burning eyes were locked on mine, demanding an explanation, and I gave him a meaningful look in return, making him growl as I pushed myself into a sitting position. His hand didn't move from my abdomen, his fingers still splayed across the scars even as my singlet fell to cover them; a fact I was glad for because the feeling of his skin against mine was wonderful. Just like the night before, when we talked on the porch, I_ needed_ his touch; it was both soothing and exhilarating, a heady combination that made my body thrum. But as much as I liked it, that wasn't on my mind as I stared at him and he stared at me, our faces just inches apart now.

'Thea, please, tell me who did this.' Jake asked, his voice hard as he tried to rein in his emotions. His eyes were equally pleading and angry now, the look he was giving me _needing_ me to tell him, filling me with the urge to do anything, _anything_ to satisfy it; and I very nearly did. But I knew why Jake wanted to know, why he _needed_ to know; he was going to kill him. And that; that I couldn't allow.

'No.' I said softly, shaking my head. Jake gave me an incredulous look, confusion now his dominant emotion as he stared at me.

'No?' He asked, disbelief coating his tone. I nodded. 'Why not?' He continued, sounding just as bewildered.

'Because you'll kill him.'

'Damn straight I will.' He growled, but his rage once again morphed into confusion as I shook my head at his words. 'You don't want me to kill him.' He said quietly, sounding stunned.

'No, I don't want you to kill him.' I confirmed.

'_Why?_' Jake asked, somehow managing to sound even more surprised and disbelieving, if that was even possible.

'Because _I_ want to kill him.'

* * *

For a moment, all Jake could do was stare. I could feel his surprise, his overwhelming disbelief, as his eyes bore into mine. But soon his shocked stare became an analytical one, his head tilting slightly to the side as he looked at me, _really_ looked at me, as if he would be able to figure this all out if he stared at me hard enough. Almost a minute passed, the silence between us still unbroken, as we looked at one another; long enough that I began to wonder what exactly he saw in my gaze.

Fear, mostly. Fear because I'd spent almost 30 years hiding from the man, because of what he did. Fear because I was sure Jake was going to ask me that exact question, and the thought of answering it made me slightly sick in the stomach. Fear of what Jake's response going to be, because I _needed_ him to understand, needed it _badly_, though I wasn't quite sure why. But while there was fear, there was also anger.

Anger because I'd never seen it coming, never expected it, never even considered it. Anger because I'd been betrayed, betrayed in all the worst ways, and the man responsible had just grinned at my hurt. Anger because it was his fault, all his fault, and I couldn't, _wouldn't_ forgive. And anger because he still, after 30 years, had control over my life; control I just couldn't shake.

Usually I was good at hiding my anger. I wasn't really an angry person. But tonight, I think Jake saw it; Jake felt it. And I thought that maybe that was why he was staring, because on some level, he knew how rare this was, knew that he was on to something; something that disappeared as he finally broke our silence, for some strange reason looking like he was about to grin.

'Every time I think I'm close to figuring you out, you do something that makes me realise just how wrong I am.' He said quietly, looking like a mix of amusement and exasperation as he smiled. I couldn't help but smile back in return, not feeling at all guilty.

'Well, I did tell you I had a lot of secrets.' He laughed at that, a soft chuckle that was music to my ears.

'I guess you did.' He replied, leaning back against the headboard once more. Following his lead, I let myself stretch out on the bed once more as he continued. 'I just underestimated exactly how many.' I made a quiet noise in agreement.

'Too many.' I said, blinking slightly blearily as I looked up at him. Now that I was lying down again, my body sinking into the mattress, drowsiness was beginning to steal over me.

'Maybe you should tell me some more then; then they won't be secrets anymore.' I gave him a soft, sleepy smile.

'Maybe I will.' I whispered. It was hard to stay awake now. Jake's presence was comforting, so much so that it was lulling me into a soothing calm, and with his voice rolling over me, wonderfully deep and rumbling, it was even more difficult to stay alert. But I would try not to; I would try for him. I didn't want to lose any time with him; not when we had so little.

Especially since I was beginning to think no amount of time would ever be enough.

* * *

_Jake's POV_

She was asleep. She'd been blinking drowsily for the last half hour, her eyes fluttering with tiredness yet somehow making her only more endearing. More than once I'd wondered why she didn't just tell me to leave, so she could fall asleep like she so obviously wanted to. It wasn't until just minutes before she finally succumbed that it occurred to me that maybe she was staying awake _because_ she wanted to talk to me.

At first I dismissed the idea. It was a nice thought, one that I would like to be true, but that didn't mean anything; I had imprinted on her, not the other way round. Yet the more I thought about it, the more I began to wonder if it was true.

It _felt_ like it was true; the imprint was telling me, in its own wordless way, that it was. The knowledge made me grin – a little to happily to be easily explained – but as luck would have it, she didn't see it. In the short time it had taken me to think it over, she had drifted off.

God, she looked so delicate when she was sleeping. When she was awake, she always seemed so sure of herself; so in control. Like she didn't need anyone or anything but herself, so completely independent. But now; now she looked different. She looked small, so small; though I suppose, compared to me, almost everyone did. But I couldn't help but wonder what she would look like next to me, with my large body curled around her. I was tempted, so tempted, to find out. And I would, but not yet; not today. But unless I left soon, I didn't know how long I'd be able to stick to that decision.

It was with reluctance that I slid from the bed, padding softly over to her side. If I'd thought I could get away with it, I would have moved her so that she was laying the right way up, but after the last time I'd tried to wake her, I had a feeling that might not go down well. Instead, I had to settle for draping her blankets over her unconscious form, unable to stop myself from letting my hand brush over her hair as I did so. I knew then that I had to leave; leave because my will was quickly crumbling. But I just couldn't resist the urge to ever so gently press my lips to her forehead, before I slipped through the window just as quietly as I'd come.

* * *

As always, Thea had given me a lot to think about. But tonight, as I sat against a tree in the woods not far from her house, I was particularly troubled. After all, it was one thing to know she had bad memories, one thing to know she had nightmares, but another thing entirely to know that at some time, somewhere, for some reason, a werewolf had tried to kill her.

I had known the moment I saw it, as I let my fingers trail over the scars, that it had been done by a shapeshifter; how could I _not_ recognise the mark of one of us? It was worrying, very worrying, and for too many reasons; the first being the all-important question of who was responsible.

I knew that it hadn't been any of my pack; she was an imprint, someone to protect. And even though Quil and Jared had chased her at first, she had for the most part evaded them; with exception of the scratch on her arm, which had long since disappeared. She hadn't mentioned it, and neither had I, but I had looked for it both last night and earlier today, finding no trace of the wound; to my relief. Yet that only brought about another question; if she had fast healing, why were the scars still there?

And then there was the third question, the most concerning by far. She had told me _she_ wanted to kill him. I had been surprised, so surprised, and once the shock had worn off, I had immediately rejected the idea. It went against my protective instincts to even think about letting her near someone who had hurt her, especially when I could so easily kill him for her. But then I had looked at her, seen the glimmer of anger that was hiding beneath the fear in her eyes, and I had been forced to rethink.

She _wanted _to kill him_, _wanted it fiercely; and she had needed me to understand that. But more than that, I had felt her fear that I wouldn't understand; fear that told me just how badly she wanted and needed to do it. As her imprint, it was in my nature to give her what she wanted. Yet this; I didn't know if I could do this. It was conflicting, so conflicting, and I still hadn't made up my mind about it all. To be honest, I didn't plan to, because I had a different, more important question on my mind.

What had he done? What had happened that was so bad, so horrible, that she wanted to kill him herself? The injury and the scars he had given her were bad yes, but were they kill worthy? In my eyes, yes, but I was biased when it came to anyone even touching her. But for her to want to kill him? No, there had to be something else.

And I was going to find out what.


	14. Motorbike

**Chapter 14 - Motorbike**

_Thea's POV_

I woke up alone, which shouldn't have been surprising; when had I ever slept with someone else, except for maybe Ani when she had been younger? Yet that didn't change the fact that the lack of another presence was saddening, even though it shouldn't be. And it was all because of him.

Jake.

I had fallen asleep on him last night, despite my best efforts, which explained why I was lying the wrong way up; my feet were just shy of the pillows, my head inches from the end of the mattress. But I knew for a fact that it wasn't me who'd pulled the blankets over my body, and it made me smile to know that Jake cared enough to do it for me. Jake, who if I wasn't mistaken, was strangely close right now. Not in the house, but not far off it either; and I couldn't help but wonder why.

Curiosity and anticipation making me eager, I showered and dressed fast, pulling on my usual jeans and boots, and pairing them with a sleeveless blue top. Letting my hair hang loose as it always did, I stepped out of the bathroom; only to find myself almost walking into a happily grinning Ani sat on the floor right outside.

'Ani, what are you doing?' I asked with a laugh, carefully stepping over her and crouching by her side. Now that I'd taken a second to properly look at her, the answer to my question was obvious; there were only about a hundred wooden blocks scattered all around her, an impressive tower being built in the centre of it.

'I'm making a castle.' She declared proudly, her nose scrunching adorably in concentration as she place yet another block on the slightly swaying pile. She clapped happily when it didn't fall over, and I smiled, tugging on her hair gently and making her giggle.

'It's very impressive.' I replied, and she nodded vigourously.

'Yep. I'm gonna build it as tall as the sky.' She said, and I laughed softly, standing up carefully as her attention once again fixated on her 'castle'. Walking into the empty kitchen, I snagged an apple form the fruit bowl, munching on it happily as I made my way through the house. Just like yesterday, I had slept through the morning, the house bright with daylight as I headed to where I could hear Sera; only to find myself freezing in my tracks as I got a look through the lounge room window.

Sitting just outside our house, all alone on the grass, was a motorcycle.

But more importantly, it wasn't _my_ motorcycle. Mine was sitting in a garage back in Seattle, and this one most obviously wasn't. Yet I couldn't stop myself from back tracking my steps, heading out the front door to have a closer look, because if there was one thing I loved, it would probably be a motorbike.

I'd never had an overt fondness for cars, but bikes were a completely different story. It was the closest thing I'd found to giving the exhilarating sensation I got from running, but while sprinting at inhuman speeds wasn't something I could do in public, riding a motorbike certainly was. The wind tearing at your clothes, the adrenaline, the _speed_; it was wonderful. Addictive too; ever since I'd first learned to ride one, I hadn't been able to use anything else.

So when I caught sight of the one sitting outside the house, I couldn't help but grin. It was an overcast day, but the bike still shined in what little light made it through the clouds, sleek and black against the green and brown of the surrounding woods. Making my way over to it, I grew sure that my guess of the owner was correct; Jake's scent was all over it. Which begged the question: what was it doing here?

I could be wrong, but I was pretty sure I'd never mentioned anything to Jake anything to do with motorbikes; yet here it was. Was it just coincidence? I guess I would have to find out.

Surprisingly, while his was bike was here, and while I could feel he was close, Jake was nowhere to be seen. I was sure he had a reason, one that was eager to know, but the temptation to take a closer look at the motorbike was growing stronger by the second. He wouldn't mind if I looked at it, would he?

* * *

_Jake's POV_

I didn't quite know what had driven me to park my motorbike outside Thea's house. It wasn't really the imprint; it didn't give me directions, but rather feelings. But when I'd walked past the garage this morning, I had been consumed with an urge to show it to her, and after simply shrugging, I decided to do just that. Quil and Embry thought that it was crazy I was now taking orders from instincts and feelings without any reasoning behind them, but since I'd only know Thea two days, and had already spent the last two nights at her house, the couldn't really say anything. They were, however, very curious to see what her reaction was going to be; leaving the three of us just inside the tree line surrounding the house, waiting.

'You lucky bastard.' Embry cursed softly at me for about the fifth time today, making me grin. I was forced to duck his punch as his fist hurtled towards my head, and he snarled as he missed; again. There were advantages to being the alpha, and being the fastest and the strongest came in handy a lot.

'How? How is it that you knew her all of one day – _one!_ – and you were already pretty much making out in the closet? Or you would have been, if you hadn't broken it off because _you had a feeling_.' This fact had been annoying Embry mercilessly for the last 24 hours, and it was safe to say he thought I was an idiot. But then again, he didn't have an imprint; he didn't know how different it was. It wasn't that I hadn't wanted to; I would have been more than happy to kiss her again, and again, in that closet, because the feel and taste of her was intoxicating. But I had stopped for a reason, and though I didn't know what that was yet, last night had given me an indication that I probably wouldn't like it. However, I was distracted from my thoughts by the loud crack that resulted from Embry kicking a nearby tree a little too hard, his expression one of annoyance.

'I can't believe we thought Paul got with his girl fast. It took him what, a month? You make him look slow as hell.' I shrugged at that, my eyes flickering back to the house as I felt Thea wake; finally. The other two easily caught the movement, Quil straightening against the tree he was leant against, exchanging a look with Embry.

'Bets, Emb?' Quil asked.

'Nope. Jake's on a lucky streak, so I'm sure as hell not betting against him, and I doubt you are either.' Quil nodded. 'Besides, I already lost 10 to Jared over the kiss yesterday.' Embry said unhappily, and I couldn't resist a grin; the pack was having a great deal of fun betting on Thea and I, with me being the only wolf that hadn't.

'You sure you don't want in Jake?' Quil asked.

'Nah. I've given up on trying to predict her.' I replied with a mixture of concern and amusement, and Quil gave me a sympathetic look.

'You shouldn't worry so much, Jake. Judging by the way she nearly sliced your head off last night, she's got herself pretty well covered.' He said quietly, and I sighed.

'That's what–' I cut off mid-sentence, grinning at the mix of surprise and happiness that suddenly flowed through the imprint bond. 'She found it.' I said, my concern from just moments ago gone as my eyes fell on the front door. Just seconds later, Thea came walking out, eyes trained on my bike and a curious expression on her face. She paused just a metre away from it, a small smile on her face, before her eyes moved away to glance around her.

'She's looking for you.' Quil said quietly, and I smiled again. I could feel her searching for me through the bond, and I liked the feeling; it was always nice to be wanted, especially by her. There was eagerness too; she liked the motorbike, more than I would have expected. I really wanted to go over there and ask her about it, but at the same time, I wanted to watch her, and that was easier done from here. Shifting against the tree was I leaning against, I decided not to move; which was good, because Thea had turned her attention back to the bike and was looking at it like it was an early Christmas present.

She crouched down beside it, running her hands over the wheels and engine in a practiced way; a way that told me that this was someone who _knew_ what they were looking at. The thought made me grin; if I hadn't already liked her, I would have now. Especially since she'd just swung herself onto it, looking and feeling so at home and happy that the imprint was practically thrumming with her emotions; and my contentment and satisfaction at seeing her there.

She was running her hands over the handlebars now, brushing her hair out of the way as she peered at the instruments. The wolf was practically purring in contentment watching her, and was telling me to go over there _right now_, because the only way she would look better was if I was sitting there with her. I agreed, of course; because while she looked stunning at the moment, the imprint always, _always_ wanted to be closer to her. But I decided to wait, wait just a few more seconds, because unless I was mistaken–

'Is she doing what I think she is?' Quil asked in slight disbelief, as we all watched her lean over the bike to reach down to the wires hidden beneath and around the front wheel. She fiddled with it for maybe half a minute, before the three of us heard the quietest sound; the ticking over of the engine.

'She's hotwiring my bike.' I said with a smile and a laugh. And I'd thought seeing her sitting on my bike was good; this was so much better.

'Dude, that's so hot.' Embry said, sounding shell shocked. I growled at him, but he just glared. 'Oh come on, like you don't agree.' He retorted, and I opened my mouth to reply; only to be cut off and drowned out by a loud and furious revving sound as the engine roared to life.

'Holy hell, she did that in less than a minute.' Quil said, staring at her in amazement. I just grinned even wider, while Embry muttered something beneath his breath about wanting a woman who would hotwire _his_ bike. I wasn't paying much attention to him though; curiosity was killing me, because I desperately wanted to know when exactly she had learnt to do that. The imprint didn't care; the imprint just wanted me over there, because it was past time I was back at her side.

And so with a quick muttered goodbye to Quil and Embry, I was slipping through the trees towards my motorcycle; and the woman who was currently sitting on it.

* * *

_Thea's POV_

It wasn't long after I'd gotten the motorbike's engine alive and thrumming that I finally felt Jake move towards me. My eyes found just in time to watch him emerging from the tree line, his smile visible from here as he walked over in jeans and a t-shirt. He didn't look at all annoyed to see me on his bike; quite the opposite. He was pleased, so pleased, the feeling making me smile with happiness of my own.

But my contentment reached a whole new level when he swung onto the bike behind me, my back pressed against his chest as his hands moved around me to rest ever so lightly on my hips.

'Did you just hotwire my bike?' He asked softly and with a quiet laugh, his head over my shoulder and hot breath on my ear making me shiver. I nodded as I hummed in response.

'Maybe.' I replied with a smile, and he laughed again, the slight shaking of his chest behind me wonderful.

'Do I want to know why you learnt how to do that?' He questioned, and now it was my turn to laugh.

'Not to use on other people's motorbikes, if that's what you're thinking. I only do it to my own; I never seem to have the keys when I need them.' Another laugh from him.

'You have a bike?'

'Yes.' I said with a smile. 'It's quite similar to yours, actually, except yours has a few modifications. Did you do that?' I asked, and I felt his momentary surprise before he responded.

'Yes. I'm surprised you noticed.'

'I was hotwiring it, remember?'

'I remember.' He said with a laugh, the sound deep and rich in my ear.

'How fast does it go?' He grinned.

'Why don't we find out?'


	15. Bonds

**Chapter 15 - Bonds**

It turned out Jake's motorbike was faster than mine, though not by much. But as we flew down the highway at about 150 km/h, it was hard to think about that; it was hard to think about anything. Anything but how wonderful it was to have Jake behind me, so warm and strong as the wind tore at us both. The adrenaline was incredible, so invigorating that I was almost sad when we headed back into La Push. But my excitement and curiosity was peaked almost as soon as it had fallen, because while the house we pulled up to was mine, the two men lazing at the front weren't familiar; or at least I thought they weren't.

I knew immediately that they were pack, not just because they looked like it, but because being imprinted on by Jake seemed to have given me a sixth sense and feeling about these kinds of things. Jake didn't look surprised to see them, which made wonder about why they were here; but that train of thought was gone less than a second later. Because once again, I was completely and utterly distracted by Jake's mouth once again brushing ever so slightly against my ear as he spoke.

'They insisted on coming to meet you, I hope you don't mind.' I shook my head at his softly spoken words. 'I think they're planning on interrogating you; I'm pretty good at hiding my thought from the pack, and it's annoying them.' That made me laugh.

'Is that why they were in the woods with you this morning?' I asked, and I turned my head to see Jake give me a surprised look.

'How did…' He started to ask, but I raised my eyebrows at him, and he stopped, shaking his head.

'Supernatural, remember?' I said with a grin, which he returned.

'How could I forget?'

* * *

It turned out I had been wrong about not being familiar with the two shapeshifters. Because while I had never met Embry, I had definitely met the other, and under less than friendly circumstances; he was the one I had mistakenly thought I knew in the cemetery a few days ago.

Imagine my surprise when I found out his name was Quil. It was the same name I had called out to him, thinking he was the Quil _I'd_ known; when in some strange twist of fate, he happened to be a direct descendent, with the _same name_. It was bewildering, and I couldn't help but stare at him as a result; until Jake shook me out of it. However, my momentary shock and confusion had been enough to prompt questions about the incident, and I was left struggling to explain the strange occurrence. Thankfully, none of them pointed out the fact that the man I'd thought I'd seen was dead; that question I wouldn't have answered, and I was glad I didn't have to worm my way out of it.

And now here we were, sitting in the kitchen, me on the bar stool watching the three wolves devour half of Sera's pantry. It was impressive, really, how much they were eating; it had been a long time since I'd lived with a werewolf, and I'd forgotten just how big their appetites were. But while Jake and Embry seemed perfectly content as they ate, Quil was different. He had a thoughtful, unsure look on his face, despite now understanding what had happened in the cemetery; and I had pretty good idea why.

'You can ask me, you know.' I said, gazing at him as I said it. Embry was now giving me a surprised stare that said he had no idea what he meant, while Jake – who was sat just a half a metre away on the second bar stool – had followed my gaze, and seemed more curious than confused. Quil was now giving me a considering look, saying nothing; probably because he had no idea how to even phrase what he wanted to ask.

I shifted so that my left forearm was resting on the bench, the lightly tanned skinned smooth and unblemished, tapped it with my right hand.

'You want to know about this.' I said.

'You saw what happened?' Quil asked softly, and I nodded.

'Yes. But it's going to take some explaining.' I replied, and I paused for a moment as I debated how to start.

'What did you feel when you were attacking me?' I eventually asked. Quil gave me a strange look for a second before responding.

'It felt… wrong. Not just because you were half human and we weren't really sure if you were a threat, but because of something else. It felt…I don't know how to explain it.'

'It felt liking attack Pack.' Jake said softly, and I turned to give him a slightly surprised look. 'That's why I didn't notice you until you ran into me at the day-care; I was trying to figure out why I could smell Pack, when I knew none of my wolves near.' I nodded at that.

'Wait a second. How come you smelt like Pack when Jake hadn't imprinted on you yet?' Embry asked.

'Because I was already Pack.' Three blank faces stared back at me at my words, and I sighed as I struggled for an explanation.

'It's all because of something that happened with the last pack.' I started, and the three wolves perked up with interest.

'There was a lot of fighting between the council and the pack. Because the council is supposed to be in charge and make the decisions, but if the pack doesn't agree, it's obvious whose going to win if there's a fight. So the tribe started getting uneasy about it; they wanted to find a way to even out the scales.'

'But why? The Pack protects the tribe, they're not going to do anything to hurt it.' Quil said in confusion.

'That's from your point of view. But think about it from theirs; you guys have super strength; what if you decided to use that against the tribe to get what you want? Not that any of you would though; you don't abuse the power, because you're all good, decent guys. But not everyone is like that; I'm sure you can think of a few people you definitely _wouldn't_ want to have that kind of power.'

'Anyway, the tribe wouldn't let the issue drop, and eventually the pack found a way to make it so that they couldn't just bully the council into doing what they wanted; they made everyone in the tribe part of the Pack.'

'What?' Embry exclaimed, staring at me as if I'd gone mad. 'They made them all wolves!?' I shook my head before he even finished speaking.

'No, definitely not. You don't have to be a wolf to be part of the Pack. The imprints are part of the pack, right? I don't see any of them phasing.'

'The imprints are pack because of the imprint bond. So eventually it occurred to someone that maybe there'd be more than one way to be bonded to the pack; and they were right.'

'So the tribe bonded themselves by blood to the alpha–'

'"Bonded by blood"? That doesn't sound good.' Quil said, a hint of alarm in his voice.

'Just a cut on the palm, a few words; nothing extreme.'

'Anyway, they were bonded by blood to the alpha. They weren't strong bonds, like the ones between pack mates and imprints, but they were enough. The tribe became part of the alpha's pack, and under his protection. And because of that, none of the wolves could hurt any member of the pack; or they would suffer the consequences.'

'Consequences?' Jake asked softly, his gaze strong and curious as he looked at me. I got the feeling he was getting a lot more out of this than the other two, connecting it up with other things I'd told him, because his eyes had a knowing glint.

'If the pack attacked any of the tribe, whatever harm they inflicted, they would receive themselves.'

'Which is why when I clawed your arm, I got the same three scratches as you did.' Quil said, sounding slightly stunned, his expression mirroring Embry's slightly dazed one. Jake though; Jake was different. I could tell he was thinking, thinking hard, his head tilted to the side slightly as he gazed at me.

'But how come that works for our pack? Shouldn't it had have died with the last pack?' Jake asked slowly.

'I thought it had. But I guess because you're a direct descendant it still works. The imprint might have had something to do with it too.' I mused, the four of us falling into a short silence as we all thought it over.

'How come we never knew about this til now?' Jake suddenly asked. 'None of that is in any of the legends I've heard.' I shrugged.

'I guess everyone just forgot about it. With all the problems between the pack and tribe solved, there was no reason to think about it much.'

'Hold on a second. You said the bond meant the wolves couldn't force the council to agree to anything, right?' Embry said.

'Yeah?'

'But what if the council decided on something the pack didn't agree to? They couldn't interfere then?' I shook my head.

'Being bonded to the Pack meant the tribe were loyal to the pack; they couldn't make decisions that would be bad for the pack, so there wasn't an issue.' The three wolves nodded at that, and after a short pause, it seemed they had run out of questions. Quil had gone back to rummaging through the cupboards; now that their questions had been answered, it appeared the wolves were hungry again. But as he opened the door to the cabinet under the sink, he paused.

'Why do you have a gun hidden under the sink?' Quil asked with disbelief, his shocked gaze meeting mine.

'Oh, that's not mine. That's Sera's.' Jake and Embry were staring at me now as well, the three of them looking even more surprised at my words.

'Why does your sister have a gun under the sink?' Jake questioned.

'Habit, I suppose.'

'Since when is it habit to keep guns hidden in the house?' He said incredulity.

'She was married to a policeman; I guess it rubbed off.'

'_Was _married?' Jake asked, having picked up on my use of the past tense.

'He died.' I said sadly.

I remembered it well. Luke had been a friend of mine; we'd worked in the same squad with the Seattle police force, which was how he met Sera. Their connection was instant; within a year he had proposed, a few months later they were married. A little over a year later they had Ani. And two years after that, he was shot during a night raid.

It had been awful, terrible. Policing was a dangerous job, but we had never imagined we would lose him. It had taken Sera over a year to recover, and even then she wasn't quite the same. That was the reason she had moved back here with Ani; too many memories were in Seattle, painful reminders of what she had lost. It was sad, so sad to think about, the melancholy consuming; until once again, I was jerked from my overwhelming emotions but Jake.

It seemed to be becoming a habit of his; to bring me back to the world when my thoughts had stolen me away. He kept me grounded; something I hadn't realised I'd needed until coming here. When I'd been living with Sera, it hadn't been so hard, but since I'd been back on my own, things had been different. Now, though; now things had changed again. Changed because of _him_.

'I'm sorry.' Jake said softly, his hand resting ever so gently on my knee as he spoke. It was the contact more than the words that chased away the sadness, and I gave him a small smile in thanks; one which he returned.

'Can you shoot with it?' Quil asked, indicating the cupboard beneath the sink.

'Yes.' I said, smiling slightly as his impressed look. 'But I don't usually use guns.'

'What do you use instead?' Embry asked. From their questions, I gathered that they knew about my work with the police; plus, they had assumed it was my gun, and not Sera's.

'Knives mostly.' I replied.

'You fight with them?' Jake asked, and I could tell he was thinking about the incident last night. I nodded.

'Yes. But I can throw them as well.' Embry whistle, impressed.

'Sweet. Are you any good?' Quil asked, and I laughed.

'Pretty good.' I replied. 'If you pass me one of those, I can show you.' I continued, indicating the knife rack on Jake's right. He easily plucked one from the set, pausing for a moment before handing it over to my waiting palm.

'It goes against the grain to give you a weapon.' He said softly, and I smiled.

'Does it help if I promise not to attack you with it again?' He laughed.

'No; it's not me I'm worried about.'

'Well, I haven't stabbed myself with one yet, so I think we're good.' I replied, and he grinned. Taking a tighter grip on the black handle, I felt the weight of the knife in my hand, judging its balance. The blade was about 20cm long, thin and silver. I twirled the knife in my fingers, feeling it move; before I gripped it tightly once more.

'This'll work.' I said, returning my attention to the wolves; they were watching me with fascination. 'So, pick something.'

'What?' Quil said, looking confused.

'Pick something for me to throw this at.' I expanded. The three men glanced around the room, searching for a target.

'The door?' Embry suggested, and I threw him a look.

'Pick something _hard_.' I said, and when they all just looked at me, I sighed. 'Ok, _I'll_ pick something.' Letting go of the knife and reaching for the pen sitting on the bench top, I slid from the bar stool and strode over to the far wall. There, I marked a small black dot at about eye level, before heading back to sit at the bench.

'You're going to hit that?' Quil asked, sounding slightly dubious. From here, the dot was just barely visible.

'Yes.' I replied, and grabbing the knife again, I weighed it once more in my hand.

And then, in a lightning fast movement, I flung it at the wall.


	16. Return

**Chapter 16 - Return**

After the knife throwing, the wolves didn't stay long. At first it was just Embry and Quil that left; leaving Jake and I sitting at the kitchen counter to continue talking. But as nice it was to sit with him, eventually, he too had to leave. It was hard, so hard to watch him go; though it was made easier – slightly – by his promise to return.

Tonight, he said. He wanted to show me something, he told me with a grin; a grin that made my curiosity sky rocket. He wouldn't tell me what it was though; it was a secret. His reply made me laugh softly at the role reversal, because _I _was usually one with the secrets; was still the one with secrets. But now he had some too, and I would have to wait to find out what they were.

And with that he had left; his lips brushing the gentlest kiss against my cheek as he did.

The kiss almost made it worthwhile to have him leave, because the feeling of my skin tingling from the contact was enthralling. But almost wasn't completely, and I was still sad to watch him leave; I always would be. It was better knowing he was coming back; knowing that if he could, he would have stayed.

But that did nothing, _nothing_ to quell the slowly burning fire in my heart that was the knowledge that tomorrow, it wouldn't be him that was leaving; leaving, and not coming back.

I'd been trying not to think about it. There was no changing what had happen, so there was no point worrying about it. Plus, I couldn't afford to waste what time I had in despair. Yet despite my best efforts, my imminent departure was always in the back of my mind. With everything Jake did it was there, and unpleasant reminder that I was going to lose this; lose him.

Lose him, when because of something that happened almost 36 years ago, I never really had him to begin with.

* * *

I let out a quiet scream, curling in on myself at the sharp pain, breaking free of the arms that had held me. I hit the ground hard, but it barely even registered; I was too consumed by the agony that had ripped through me. Stabbing, again and again, feeling as if my stomach was being shredded, being yanked from my body. My breaths had stopped, my hands scrabbling at the ground for something, _anything_ to alleviate it. I found myself crawling across the ground desperately, Cass's death almost forgotten as I found the relief I so wildly sought, throwing myself forward because for some unknown reason, heading in this direction was ever so slowly dimming the pain.

I must have crawled almost fifty metres before I collapsed on the ground, the pain so faint that I wasn't sure if it was real or me remembering it. Somehow I found the strength to roll onto my back, my weak arms groping at my stomach, expecting to find a gash, a wound, anything to explain the agony that had overtaken me.

Instead, I found nothing but smooth skin. Surprise once again stopping my breaths, I blinked the tears from my eyes so that I could validate that what my hands had found was true; there was nothing there. Nothing but my grey shirt, my lightly tanned stomach bare beneath it. I felt over my back as well, and still nothing. There was blood on my hands and legs, but that wasn't mine; my vision was again blurred with tears at the reminder. But I fought back the pain of Cass's passing, because there was something strange, so strange, going on; something I needed to find out.

'I- What-' I muttered in confusion, bewilderment and grief making my voice hoarse and uneven, surprise making me speak out loud, as if saying it would somehow explain it. It didn't, and I couldn't really say I had expected it to, so I was more than bit startled when a deep, masculine voice spoke through the trees.

'Interesting. That worked even better than I thought it would.' My head whipped to the side, my eyes immediately landing on the tall figure that stepped forwards. It took me a second to recognise the man as Leon, one of the four members of the wolf pack, and the only one who still phased on a somewhat regular basis. He had phased a few years later than the other three, with a more diluted bloodline, but was nether-the-less a shapeshifter, albeit not as strong. Because of my connection with Ephraim, I had seen Leon many times, so it was surprising that I hadn't known him at first. Usually, I would have identified him much easier, but the intrigued and considering expression he wore, and the slight malice in his eyes was so out of character that I was left stunned for several moments.

'Leon? I- What are you doing here?' I asked softly, confusion making my words quiet and slow. He stepped closer, and my brain suddenly made the connection, my eyes widening. 'You were the one that brought me here.' He nodded, but didn't explain.

'Why?' I asked brokenly, Aunt Cass's blood drenched body flashing before my eyes as I shuddered slightly, my hands clenching. Leon just shrugged.

'You were so upset. I thought it would be best to take you away.' Something seemed off about his words, but I couldn't pick it out; I was too busy shaking my head, staggering to my feet. Spinning in a slow circle as I oriented myself, I headed back in the direction I'd come from.

I'd left her. How could I have done that? I should be at her side now, but I wasn't. Guilt surged over me in a wave, my breaths hitching slightly.

'I have to get back. I should never have a left.' I murmured hurriedly and despondently, Leon all but forgotten, my mind once again consumed by grief for Cass.

However, I didn't get more than a few feet before I found myself once again crippled by the fierce pain that felt as if I was being speared through the belly. I fell against a nearby tree, groaning, my vision swimming with the pain, barely aware of my surroundings as Leon's warm hands once again took hold of me, pulling me back to where I'd collapsed after the first burst of pain. And just as it had last time, I was blissfully relieved to discover that the pain vanished, nothing but an unpleasant memory as I sagged against another tree.

'If I were you, I wouldn't try that again.' Leon said, his voice snapping me out of hazy confusion. I was bewildered, my eyes wide as I stared at him. What the hell was going on?

'I don't understand. What just happened?' I croaked, my throat dry and my voice shaky. It was then that his words fully sunk in, I straightened, fully facing him as I gave him a wary look. 'What do you mean, I shouldn't try to do that again? Do what?'

'Try and head back to La Push.' He said, his voice strangely cold and hard. I gave him an incredulous look, my stomach feeling strangely unsettled; I had a bad feeling about this.

'Back? We haven't left…' I said with confusion, but I trailed off at the end, glancing around as I spoke, and realising that we were, indeed, out of La Push. That is, if you counted being about three steps outside the border line as being 'out'.

'You took me to the border.' I half asked, half stated, my feeling of apprehension growing. He said nothing, instead staring at me with dark brown eyes. I'd never noticed before, but they held a spot of cruelness, and I shifted uncomfortably under his gaze.

'Why shouldn't I head back?' I questioned slowly, cautiously.

'Well, because you can't.' It made me shiver, how harsh and forbidding his statement was. 'You must have noticed what happened when you tried to do so just moments ago.' I felt my forehead crinkle in confusion.

'I still don't-'

'I fear the pain will only get worse the more you try, intensifying the further in you go. I suspect it would kill you before you got very far.' He said it so matter-of-factly that at first I couldn't believe the words that had come out of his mouth. But when they did sink in, I shook my head fiercely, the sick feeling in my stomach growing by leaps and bounds, seconds away from becoming panic.

'No. That can't be true. I have to go back.'

He laughed. He actually laughed. A deep, menacing, spine chilling chuckle, that made fear spike within me and caused my heart to race. But even more fearsome was the anticipatory, evil enjoyment on his face as he spoke again.

'I'm afraid I can't let you do that.' I was frozen against the tree trunk, so I had nowhere to move as he stepped closer. I belatedly realised that he'd been moving nearer and nearer with every sentence he spoke, but I'd been to ignorant to notice. My brain was still reeling, still burning with the image of Aunt Cass's body, the knowledge of her death making my mind slow.

'Why not?' I replied, my voice almost a whisper.

'Well, because I didn't go through all this to get the chance to kill you with my own hands, only to have you do it yourself.'

* * *

It was safe to say I was failing epically in my aim to _not _think about tomorrow. Without Jake, my thoughts and memories were running rampant, and no matter what I did, I just couldn't seem to shake them. It wasn't just that Jake always seemed to know when I needed a distraction or a nudge to snap me out of my mind; it was that his very presence made it so much easier to not be consumed by them in the first place.

When I was out of La Push, I was so much more in control. I didn't have the nightmares, I didn't barely sleep from restlessness, and I didn't attack people in my sleep. I still remembered everything, of course. But the distance, being separate from of it all; it helped me keep it under control.

I liked being in control, _needed_ to be in control. Since I'd first left La Push, I'd had only myself to rely on. There were others – friends, close and not so close – but they didn't know what I did. And even those who did; they couldn't help. There was only me; I was the only one strong enough, fast enough. I was supernatural, and stuck in a supernatural world; no one else stood a chance.

It hadn't always been this way. When I'd had the Pack, I hadn't been alone in being supernatural. I hadn't needed to worry. But things had changed, things had really, completely changed; worried and alone had become so, so familiar.

Until almost three days ago.

Supernatural beings had come back into my life; one in particular. One shape shifter that had made it clear how very alone I was, and reminded me how much I didn't want to be. But even more than that, Jake gave me back my control; he _was_ my control. Because of him, I had been relaxed for first time on Quileute soil since I'd been banned from ever setting foot on it.

I needed him; needed him badly. Not just now, but always.

But he wasn't here now, and in the meantime, I knew I wanted to see; knew who I needed to talk to.

My father.

* * *

_Jake's POV_

It was strange to walk up to the house, knowing that Thea wasn't inside. I was used to feeling the relief, the fulfilled need, that came every time I approached her inside the wooden house; yet instead I was walking only further away from her. But I kept walking, making my way up the steps and across the porch, because there was something I'd come here to do.

My knuckles rapped sharply on the wooden door, and I heard Thea's sister Sera gasp in surprise inside. And then I was waiting, waiting, waiting–

The door swung open, showing Sera standing there with a mixture of surprise and expectation as she recognised me.

'Jake.' She said. 'Usually I'd assume you were looking for Thea, but since I think we both know she's not here…' She trailed off, looking at me curiously. I had to grin at her perceptiveness.

'Actually, I wanted to talk to you.' I replied, and this time she didn't look surprised. Waving me into the house, she led me into the kitchen, and for the second time that day I claimed one of the stools at the bench.

'So should I take a guess about what you want to talk about?' She asked, as she started rummaging through one of the kitchen cupboards.

'I'm pretty sure you already know.' I replied, and she gave me a knowing look.

'Thea?' I nodded.

'How much do you know about her?' I asked. I already knew that Sera knew about the supernatural; half-vampires, shapeshifters, and that I had imprinted. But I wanted to know how much else there was; and how much I was missing.

'More than most.' Sera replied. 'More than you, I think. Though maybe not by much.' I perked up slightly at that; it was hard to judge sometimes how much I really knew about Thea, but by what Sera was saying, I wasn't doing too badly. Which was good, because I _wanted_ to know her, _needed_ to know her. Needed to know her so that she could be mine; mine to understand, mine to look after, mine to protect.

And it was that need that had brought me here.

'Do you know what she's been worried about the whole time she's been here?' I asked, and she stilled.

'Maybe.' She responded, with a hint of hesitance. 'Is that what you came to ask?' I shook my head.

'No.' Sera raised her eyebrows at that, her slight wariness disappearing. 'I'd rather hear it from her, not that I think you'd tell anyway.' I said, and she grinned.

'No, I wouldn't.' She replied. 'So what _do_ you want to know?'

'I want to know if _I_ need to be worried.' I asked, and again she paused, thinking over her answer. She gazed at me as she did, seeming to be searching for something; what, I had no idea. But eventually she sighed, so softly I almost didn't hear it, and gave me an answer.

'She's going to be okay, Jake. That's all I can say.'


	17. Fire

**Chapter 17 - Fire**

_Thea's POV_

I was halfway back to the house when Jake found me. I had felt him moving closer, closer; and then the next moment, he was appearing from the trees. At first he was just a shadow in the darkness of the night, until he stepped into a rare patch of moonlight, and his handsome face and gorgeous smile became visible. He paused, waiting for me as I grinned in return, covering the few steps that separated us.

'Are you going to tell me what we're doing now?' I asked, and he laughed, his eyes bright.

'Not yet.' He replied.

'But soon?'

'Soon I won't have to tell you.' He said with a smile, taking my hand and leading me forward. We trekked through woods towards the border line for a few minutes, chatting lightly as I tried and failed to get information out of him about where we were going. It wasn't until I caught sight of a strange, flickering white light through the trees that I gave up, stopping mid sentence.

'What is that?' I asked in surprise and confusion, and Jake laughed.

'Where we're headed.' He said, pulling me after him once more. Now that I'd noticed it, I couldn't take my eyes off it, and I titled my head to the side slightly as I stared; for some bizarre reason it looked familiar, though I couldn't for the life of me remember why. It wasn't until Jake led me through the remaining few trees, and the fire became visible, that I figured it out.

'Oh!' I gasped, pausing as I took it in. The small flames licking up the driftwood and twigs were a wonderfully bright blue and purple, the only colour in the dark. A ring of stones and rocks had been made around the small blaze, keeping it from burning down the rest of the woods. It was beautiful, the light of the flames making ever changing patterns on the nearby trees.

'I figured as it's been so long since you've been back here, this was probably one of things you missed.' Jake said softly. I looked at him then, tearing my eyes away from the fire; he was watching me, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. I squeezed his hand tightly.

'Thank you.' I replied quietly, and now he really was smiling, his grin echoing my own.

The sudden flaring of the fire snapped my attention back to it, my eyes once again locking on the blue and purple light as the flames died down as quickly as they'd risen. Now that I was watching it again, I couldn't take my eyes off it. I was only half paying attention as Jake pulled me to the ground next to him, our backs against a large tree trunk just metres from the blaze.

'I can't remember the last time I saw one of these.' I said softly, not quite so enraptured by the fire as I began to take note of what was going on around me. I realised Jake hadn't let go of my hand, his warm fingers laced through mine between us. We were sitting so close that our shoulders were touching, and almost without meaning to, I leaned into the touch; the feeling of his bare arm against mine was too good to resist. Now that I'd noticed it, I couldn't seem to take my mind off it; not when my whole body was tingling slightly from the sensation.

'We used to light them so often when I was younger, but now…' I trailed off, staring at the flames as I shook my head. 'You can't really do bonfires in the city, especially not driftwood ones.'

'So why don't you come back here more often then?' Jake asked, and I tensed.

'Lots of reasons.' I replied quietly, unable to keep a hint of sadness from voice.

'Reasons you're going to keep secret?' He asked carefully, and I nodded.

'I suppose you have already told me more than three secrets today.' He said far more cheerfully, and not for the most time, I thanked the world for the imprint. Jake knew exactly what to ask and what not to, knew when a little more convincing would get me talk, and knew when he had found a question that no matter what he did, I wouldn't say anything. But even better than that, he understood that when I didn't say something, it was always for a reason. He could feel it, feel my reaction; whether it be fear or sadness or something else entirely. And he so easily turned it around, able to make me smile again with just one sentence; even now I was laughing softly despite myself.

'A bit more than three, I think.' I replied, and now he was the one chuckling softly.

'Well, can I ask one more?' He questioned, and I nodded as I gave him a curious look.

'Where did you learn to throw knives so well?' I smiled softly.

'Here and there. Not with the police; they don't really specialise in that kind of thing.'

'So how come you learnt it then?'

'After I left La Push, I learnt a lot of different fighting types and styles; knife throwing was one them.'

'Because of who did this to you?' He asked slowly, his free hand ghosting over my stomach as he traced the scars hidden beneath my top.

'Yes.' I replied quietly.

'So what did you learn?'

'A bit of everything, I guess. Mostly hand to hand combat; karate, jujitsu, a few others. Bit of fencing, bit of staff work. Plus all the training I got with the police academy; baton work, shooting, that kind of thing.'

'Wow.' Jake said softly. He paused for a moment, seemingly thinking, before he spoke again. 'Could you beat one of us wolves in a fight?' He asked.

'Maybe. Depends.'

'On what?'

'A lot of things. Fighting for practice and fighting to save your life are pretty different; how much you want to win can play a big part in it. Like the other day when your wolves were chasing me; they weren't really trying, and neither was I.'

'How do you know they weren't?'

'I've been chased by a shapeshifter before, Jake; I knew what you guys can do.' He gave me a strong look at that, reacting to my words. I squeezed his hand in reassurance. 'As for why I wasn't fighting back; it went against instinct to attack Pack.' He looked a tad surprised at that.

'Even then? Before I'd imprinted?' I nodded.

'Anyway, you'd be surprised how different is to fight an animal than human; it's hard to block a punch when you guys don't have fists. I'm a good fighter, but when you guys are wolves, you have an advantage. Add in the fact that your supernatural; I don't think I'd win then.'

'If you were human, though, I'm not sure. You're still fast, but I know how to fight; I might win.'

'Okay. That's kind of confusing. Anything else?' He asked.

'Well, which of you I was fighting would make a difference. Some of you are stronger and faster than others. I wouldn't win against you; even if I could fight you.' He looked confused at my last statement.

'If you could fight me? You mean you won't?'

'It's more that I can't. Like I said before, it went against instinct to attack Pack; it would probably be even harder now because I'm more Pack than I was before. I don't know if I could attack any of you. Maybe.'

'But you; I could never attack you. The idea just makes me feel… wrong. My stomach feels sick just thinking about it. I couldn't do it. I wouldn't _want_ to do it.' I said, shaking my head. My gaze flickered to his as I did, his gaze a conflicting mixture of pleasure and dislike. It was easier to look at him now; we had both shifted through the conversation – almost without meaning to – our bodies angled towards one another.

'I couldn't attack you either.' He looked haggard at the thought, and I shuddered slightly; I knew the feeling. 'It goes against every instinct I have.' He said softly. The thumb of the hand that was holding mine was rubbing soft circles on the back of my palm now; it was both relaxing and thrilling, the strange combination blissful.

'What _do_ your instincts want you to do?' He smiled at that.

'To be close to you. To keep you safe. To make you smile.' I did smile at that; even more so because his other hand had snapped forward to grab a strand of my hair, curling it around his fingers.

'To touch you.' He said softly, gently tugging the strand in example. 'And to do this.' Jake said, even quieter now, his hand lightly cupping my neck as he moved forwards, his lips brushing mine in the softest of kisses.

I sighed quietly at the contact, my nerves tingling from the pleasure as my free hand slid up his arm and shoulder to knot softly in his dark hair. I met his slow movements with my own, pulling him closer because while his gentle lips were so, so wonderful, I needed _more_. He didn't protest, kissing me more firmly as the hand that had been holding mine found my waist, my now free hand holding his forearm as he moved.

God, he just felt so _good_. His hot lips were searching as he kissed me, the heat a burning fire in my blood as I all but melted against him. He was just everywhere, the only thing I could think about, the only thing I _wanted_ to think about. The elation was overwhelming, my body alive with the feeling, with the irrepressible delight that was searing through me as he kissed me, and I kissed him.

But all too soon his soft lips were gone, his face just inches from mine as he stared at me. His eyes seemed to be endlessly deep, the brown even darker in the night but still beautiful to look at; especially since they just seemed so happy as they looked at me. They appeared to light up even more as they moved slightly to the left, his lips forming a small smile. I blinked at him in confusion, turning my head to try and figure out what he was looking at; only to find the motion impeded by his hand brushing through my hair, sweeping it out of my face and following it down my shoulders.

'I've wanted to do this ever since I first saw you.' He said softly, his fingers deft and gentle as they slipped through the wavy strands; strands that didn't look golden brown, but instead seemed far darker. I couldn't help but smile at his words; his contentment and fascination was mixing with my own, the effect heady.

I was so wonderfully, overwhelmingly happy, because of him.

Jake made me happy like no one else could.

* * *

Hours later, we hadn't moved from our spot by the fire. Even though in the last 30 minutes it had been all but dead, desperately clinging for life as just the smallest embers burned, we still hadn't left. It was only when the sparse flames finally burned out, extinguishing and plunging us into darkness, that we were given no choice.

We had just been so comfortable, so absorbed in one another, that we hadn't even noticed the passing of time. His voice, his laugh, his smile; I was captivated. I didn't want to leave; didn't want to move from his side, because his arm around my waist as I leant into him felt amazing. But it was the middle of the night, and we probably should have left a long time ago, so it was with reluctance that I let him pull me to my feet.

Jake didn't release my hand while we walking through the trees, which I was glad for. I was already missing how close we had been before; I didn't know if I could handle being separated from his touch altogether. But it wasn't just his touch I craved; it was his heat. No one else felt warm to me, and I had decided that I loved the warmth. It was soothing, comforting; it made me want to melt against him as I soaked it up.

If only that was possible.


	18. Leaving

**Chapter 18 - Leaving**

_Jake's POV_

Don't leave.

The feeling swept over me, strong and powerful as the house came into view.

Don't. Leave.

This feeling was strong, so strong; stronger than almost all the others the imprint had given me. It seized me, fast and undefeatable; I wasn't leaving. Not that I wanted to, but still.

But while I was perfectly happy – more than happy – to stay by her side, I couldn't help but wonder _why_. Why was my every instinct screaming at me not to move even an inch away? It was a question, one of many; one I didn't have an answer to. Not yet, at least. Thea still had secrets; secrets she was keeping hidden. Secrets I wanted to know, but secrets I would wait for.

I would wait for her. However long it took, I would wait. Looking at it from the outside, I already knew so many, and after so little time; I was sure she would tell me. It was only a question of when; when would I find out? I didn't know, and I wondered if maybe she didn't know either. Regardless, I would wait. I would happily wait, if it meant I got to spend more time with her.

We were almost at the door now, her small hand still in mine as we approached. She paused for a second as we cleared the stairs, turning her gaze to mine.

'Come inside with me? You'll probably end up back here anyway, if the last two nights are any indication.' She said with a slight smile, one which I returned far more widely as I nodded.

'Of course.' I replied, following her easily through the dark house; like she had to ask. The need to stay had softened somewhat now that I was inside, but the feeling was still within me, still powerful as we entered the bedroom.

Don't leave.

I wasn't leaving; quite the opposite as I sat on the bed beside her. She was less than a metre away, stretching out wonderfully over the bed covers as she rolled to face me.

'How did you know?' I asked, as I lay down beside her. She gave me a confused look, and I amended my question. 'Earlier today, you knew Quil wanted to ask you something. How?' She shrugged.

'I like to think I'm good at reading people.' She said softly. 'Plus, he's Pack; I think I've got a sixth sense that's wired to pick up things like that from you guys.' I hmmed softly as I thought that over.

'The Pack thing I get. But why are you good at reading people?'

'Practice, I guess. I've got plenty of secrets that I don't want most people to ever pick up on, so I'm always careful to watch out for those getting too curious.'

'That sounds hard. To always be on your guard.' I said, and she frowned.

'Not as much as you'd think. It's not like I'm 24/7 watching everything they say or do. It's more just being prepared to pick up some warning signs. I'd say the hard part is the fact that I have so much to hide in the first place.' She turned sad at that, her eyes downcast; but that was nothing compared to the raging sadness that I could feel she was trying to hide.

She _hated_ it. Hated hiding everything, because I could feel the strange combination of sorrow and guilt tearing her apart. It was strong, ridiculously so, the sadness blasting through me and almost making me shudder.

I understood why; all of the Pack had people they wished could know the truth, but couldn't. It was hard, beyond hard, to always try to keep our existence a secret. The guilt I understood too; knowing you were lying, but having no other option. Yes, I knew what she was feeling.

But I still needed to stop it. It was wrong, so incredibly wrong, for her to be so consumed by melancholy. The imprint was screaming at me to do something, anything to make her smile again because she shouldn't be like this, she should _never_ be like this.

And so I took her hand in mine, lacing her fingers between my own.

* * *

An hour later, she was almost asleep, her hand still holding mine. Her eyes were closed – they had been for a while now – but she had still been responding, her voice quiet and laced with tiredness. Now, though; now she was all but silent, her light breaths the only sound she was making.

If I was someone else, I might have been insulted that both last night and tonight she had fallen asleep on me; but I wasn't. I was her imprint, and even after three days, I knew her; some of her, at least. I knew that she was the type of person that wouldn't _ever_ fall asleep unless she trusted who she was with, because that meant letting her guard down, and that she hardly ever did.

But she had fallen asleep next to me, touching me; she trusted me. And it was good, so good, that she did. I wanted her to trust me, _needed_ her to trust me, because she was my imprint, and that meant so, so much. Trust meant that she would tell me more; tell me more secrets. And then I would really, truly know her, and she could _mine_. Mine in all ways, any ways; mine to protect, to understand, to touch.

Soon. She would be mine soon; but not yet. Not yet, because even though the imprint was _still_ telling me to stay, I didn't know why, and I didn't know if she would let me. She trusted me, yes; but enough to let me stay? I didn't know.

I should probably go. We were friends, more so than that, but even for imprints, three days seemed soon, too soon for her to let me stay. It would be safest to go.

Don't leave.

Yes, it would safest to go; but the imprint did not want me to. The imprint hadn't been wrong yet, and I really, _really_ wanted to stay right where I was, but that was me, not her.

What to do? Stay, not stay, stay, not stay–

'Stay.' She whispered, so quietly that if I'd been human, I wouldn't have heard. My eyes, which had drifted to stare at the ceiling while I thought, flicked to her face, half expecting to see here staring at me. But she was asleep, her eyes closed, breaths soft, her hand still limp in mine. And yet she had answered; somehow.

How or why wasn't important though; what was important was that I had my answer, and it was the one I had oh so desperately wanted to hear.

Don't leave.

* * *

_Thea's POV_

I woke to the soothing and tingling feeling of Jake's warm and deft fingers playing with my own. His touch was good, so good; almost as good as waking up and feeling his presence next to me. Knowing he was there, less than a metre away; I couldn't help but smile softly at the knowledge.

But as the mattress suddenly shifted beneath me, his weight next to me disappearing, I realised it wasn't his hand holding mine that had jerked me from sleep.

I made sad noise as his fingers disappeared, my smile disappearing as I felt him move away. Without thinking, I rolled towards where his body had been just moment earlier, finding nothing but a dull warmth from where he had been laying. And while the heat was good, it would have been _so_ much better to find him instead.

'I'm sorry I woke you.' Jake's soft and deep voice rolled over me, and I opened my eyes at the wonderful sound, surprised by the darkness in the room. Still, my gaze managed to find his; he was standing beside the bed, and looked impossibly tall from where I was laying.

'You should go back to sleep.' He said quietly, and I nodded as I gave him a sleepy smile. He grinned back at me, but only for a second, turning away and heading for the door. That made me frown; he was leaving, and I didn't want him to leave.

'Jake.' My soft call stopped him; he paused halfway across the room, turning his head to face me.

'You stayed.' I said, even quieter now, unable to hide a small smile. 'Thank you.' He smiled at that.

'Anytime.' He seemed to hesitate for a moment, before striding back over to me, and kissing me ever so lightly on the cheek.

'I'll be back later.' He said, and this time he didn't pause, disappearing through my bedroom door and closing it with a soft click.

He was gone.

He was gone, but it was bearable, because the bed was still warm from his skin, and my cheek was still tingling from his touch. If I just ignored the imprint bond that was telling me that he was walking further and further away, I could imagine that he was still here, and that he hadn't left.

And when I fell asleep just minutes later, I almost believed that.

* * *

Waking for the second time – in the early afternoon, if I wasn't mistaken – wasn't nearly as pleasant. Because instead of waking up to Jake, and his murmured words, I was jerked from sleep by my less than pleasant dreams, and I was very much alone in the bed when I finally managed to escape them. And this time, there was no smiling or warmth or kisses on the cheek, but the terrible, crushing realisation that today was day four in La Push, and that meant only one thing.

Today I would have to leave.

And it didn't matter that I squeezed my eyes tightly shut again, shook my head, and pinched myself in the hope that I was still dreaming; there was no getting out of this. No matter how much I might want to, no matter how much I might hope otherwise, there was no avoiding it.

I was leaving; and probably not coming back.

The thought made my lip tremble, and I had to fight to keep in a sob. I wouldn't cry. If I let myself cry, I would lose control, and I'd never be able to go through with it. I had to be strong.

And I had to _stay_ strong.

But now my hands were shaking as I tried to open my dresser, and I had to clench at the handle so hard I thought that I might break it.

Stay strong.

But how could I? How I could leave him? I liked him too much, way too much; I couldn't leave.

Stay strong.

Never coming back. That was the only way. Not because of the poison or Leon but because forcing myself away from Jake once was going to be all I could handle.

Stay strong.

I had to pause beside the door to calm my frantic breaths. In and Out. In. And then out. I tried to close my eyes, to centre myself, but that was a bad idea; a very bad idea. Because now all I could see was Jake and that was pushing me close, so close to breaking point and–

Stay. Strong.

Did I want to die? No.

Was staying with Jake for a day worth dying for? Maybe? No. No, it wasn't. I had to believe that.

Would Jake want me to die? No. No, he wouldn't. Jake would want me to leave and live. Leave and live.

Leave and Live.

* * *

Sera found me in the kitchen, staring gloomily at the bench top as I played with the fruit bowl. At first she said nothing, though I could feel her watching me as I stared. I wondered if she was waiting for _me_ to say something; if she was, she was going to be waiting a _very_ long time. Because if I spoke, I would lose my control; control that I needed.

'Thea.' I stiffened slightly as she said my name, my grip on the bowl tightening. The bowl was helping me stay in control, as I spun it around, and around, and around. If I focused on spinning it, spinning it exactly 180 degrees every single time, then I couldn't think about other things. Other things that were going to tear me apart because I couldn't do this, couldn't do this, couldn't do this–

The bowl was tugged from my grasp, and I stared in surprise at the spot it had vanished from. It was a mark of how torn I was that Sera had been able to take it without me even noticing her approach.

'Talk to me?' She asked softly, placing her hand on my shoulder. That made me tense again, though I relaxed after a moment. Touch was good. I could focus on her hand now; focus on her hand as I shook my head, because speaking was a bad idea. She sighed at that, but I think she understood; understood that I wasn't ignoring her, but was trying to keep everything together.

She pulled me into an embrace then, her arms wrapping around my shoulders as she pulled me close. I hugged her back – perhaps a little too hard – but she didn't say anything; maybe because there was nothing to say. Nothing but goodbye, but she seemed to know that if she said that I would break, so when she pulled away, she didn't say it.

'Call me?' She asked, and neither of us needed for her to specify what she meant by that. I nodded, sliding off the bar stool, walking over to the edge of the kitchen before pausing. I looked back at her then; met her gaze for the first time today. She looked sad, though she turned even more so as her eyes met mine; it made me wonder what _I_ looked like.

Like something was trying to tear me apart? Yeah, that was probably about right.

But I was moving again then, moving down the hallway and out the front door. Moving around to the side of the house and pausing, because I needed to stay strong, and if I didn't lean against the wooden wall and stop myself from trembling I wasn't going to be able to.

But despite my efforts, I was pretty sure I would never, ever be strong enough for this.


	19. Can't

**Chapter 19 - Can't**

Things got both simultaneously better and worse as I felt Jake approaching. Better, because Jake gave me control which I desperately needed, as what little I had left was one wrong word or thought away from crumbling into dust. And worse, because the sooner he got here, the sooner I would have to go.

Oh hell, I couldn't do this.

I needed to stand up, I needed to stop leaning against the house, but I couldn't. My hands were trembling as I pushed against the wall, but I didn't step away, didn't move even though I knew I should.

I couldn't do this.

I had to do this.

I couldn't do this.

I had to do this.

I couldn't do this.

I slammed my head against the house in frustration; anything to stop my mind from going round and round in endless circles. It didn't hurt – I would have to hit it a lot harder if I wanted that – but it did help. For a moment, my mind went blank; incredibly and wonderfully blank. And then my thoughts were back and I was once again on the edge, fighting for control, fighting to keep myself together, until–

I let my head hit the wall again, and I exhaled at the impact. Another brief second of clarity, before–

I couldn't do this. I couldn't leave, couldn't not come back. Even 30 years ago, when coming here meant death, I had still returned. There was no way I could not come back.

Whack. Again my head hit the wood.

Why had I come here to begin with? Why hadn't I just given up on this place 36 years ago? It would have been so much easier, easier for everyone, if I had. But I had refused, had decided to risk the punishment and danger, and now…

This time I shook my head before hitting against the wall.

Stupid. I was so stupid. I could have saved myself from this if I had just _stayed away_. And then I never would have met Jake, he never would have imprinted, and I wouldn't feel like I was about to break something irreplaceable with what I was about to do.

'So stupid.' I muttered brokenly, whacking my head again.

Never meet Jake? No, I couldn't accept that. He was worth it, worth this; I couldn't regret meeting him. If only he hadn't been so wonderful, so perfect; then maybe this wouldn't hurt so much.

Thump.

Maybe I should have listened to my instincts, and ignored him. I had known, had told Sera, that if I saw him again, I wouldn't be able to do it; and I had been right. If only I had stayed away! Then this wouldn't hurt him or me; or at least, not hurt so badly.

Whack.

God, I was stupid. All I had needed to do was avoid him.

Thud.

Would that have worked though? He had imprinted on me; I might not have been able to, even if I'd tried.

Whack.

'If you were anyone else, I'd tell you stop doing that before you give yourself brain damage. As it is, I don't know if you could even give yourself a headache.'

I stilled as Jake's smooth voice reached my ears, letting my head rest softly against the wall as I glared the wood. I couldn't see him, but I could feel him moving closer; he couldn't be more than a few metres away. I wanted to see him, but I stopped myself from turning; I didn't think that would be a good idea. I still hadn't decided whether to be relieved or terrified about his arrival, and the confusion was making me tremble. My hands had been pressed against the wall, but now they were clenched into fists, because I didn't know what to do, and it was all just– just–

Too much. It was all too much.

'You're right.' I said softly, my voice sounding somewhat strangled. 'I should hit harder.'

And with that, I slammed my head into the wall with all the force I could muster; or I would have, if Jake hadn't stopped me at the last possible moment.

One hand grabbed my waist, jerking me backwards, the other catching my head before it could hit, both pulling me into him so fast that I collided with his hard body. All the air blew out of me in a whoosh as I hit his chest, the hand that had caught my head now cupping my cheek as he turned my face up to his.

'What the hell was that?' He asked, but I just shook my head, turning my eyes downwards and away from his.

'So stupid.' I muttered again, and since one surface was as good as another for my purposes, I started hitting my head against his chest. He stopped me, of course, but not as quickly as last time; I got in three decent thumps before his hand was once again on my cheek, stopping my movement.

'What are you doing?!' He asked in confusion, his gaze once again meeting mine. This time, he didn't let me turn away, but I couldn't look at him, couldn't do this, and so I closed my eyes, shaking my head again.

'Thea?' Jake said softly, so softly, his worry palpable. 'I don't–' He paused then, his body stiffening.

'You're trembling.' He said quietly, moving again now. He was stepping forwards, forcing me backwards, and in just seconds my back was pressed against the house, his body flush against mine. Both of his hands were now cupping my face, but I barely noticed, because all I could think was that I couldn't do this, couldn't do this, couldn't do this–

'Thea, open your eyes.' I didn't want to; I couldn't do this if I was looking at him. But he had asked, had asked so gently, and because it was him, because it was Jake, I couldn't refuse. And so despite my reluctance, I peeled back my eyelids.

Jake was there, as I had known he would be; he was standing over me, blocking out everything, boxing me in against the wall. And his eyes, oh god, his _eyes_; his eyes were burning, fierce as they stared at me, filled with so much worry, confusion, panic and need that they seemed to be overflowing with it all.

'Tell me what's wrong.' He said softly, and I was sure he heard my breath hitch. I shook my head a third time, my hands digging into the wood behind me.

'I can't.' I croaked. 'I can't do it.'

'Do what?' I shook my head again, harder now.

'I can't. I can't I can't I can't I can't–' Jake grabbed me more firmly, stopping my frantic shaking and locking my head in place.

'Thea, you need to calm down.'

'I can't! I can't do it, do any of it!' I cried, making Jake back up a step at my sudden outburst, allowing me to break free of his hold. I was pacing now, frantically pacing, my fists clenching and unclenching as I tried, desperately tried to get myself back under control.

'I don't know! I don't know what to do! Oh, maybe I should have just left the moment I met you!' I exclaimed, but even as I said it I was shaking my head. I barely noticed as Jake grabbed my arm again, lightly this time, because I shook him off almost immediately.

'Maybe I should have just told you! Told you so then you could have ignored me.' I said despairingly, slumping against the house and I hit it with my fist. I let Jake pull me away, but again I broke away from him to keep pacing.

'No. No, I can't tell you. I shouldn't tell you. Maybe I should just leave right now!' I cried, turning to find Jake right behind me, too surprised to do anything but gasp as he backed me against the house again, my hands splayed on his chest. This time he had one hand on my waist to stop me from slipping away again, as the other once again held my cheek.

'Or maybe you should tell me everything now so I can _help_ you.' He said, somehow both softly and firmly, his eyes pleading. I stared at him for a moment, temporarily stunned at my sudden imprisonment. His gaze was worried, so worried, almost panicked, and it was that more than anything that managed to still me, because I'd _never_ seen him look like this before. But motionless didn't mean calm, and I was still tearing myself apart inside as he spoke again.

'Let me help you, Thea.' He repeated, and I shook my head.

'You can't help me, Jake.' I said, so quietly and brokenly.

'I can. But only if you tell me what's wrong.' He insisted.

'You can't help with this. Not with this.'


	20. Stay

**Chapter 20 - Stay**

'You don't know that.' He said forcefully.

'Yes, I do.' I whispered, my fingers digging into his chest through his shirt. 'It's not– I don't– I can't do what I have to.' I eventually croaked.

'So don't do it then.' I shook my head.

'I have to!' I cried, trembling again.

'Why? Because someone's making you?' He asked, a hint of anger in his tone.

'No! Not someone, _something_.'

'What difference does it make?'

'Because I can't fight it, Jake! I don't have a choice!' I exclaimed.

'There's always a choice.'

'Not with this.' I said quietly, my voice breaking. I couldn't look at him anymore; not now, not with what I was about to say.

'I'm leaving.' I whispered, and I felt him stiffen against me.

'_What?_' He replied, his voice so shocked and bewildered that I choked out a sad whine in response. 'What do you mean you're leaving?' He asked, his tone fierce now. I just shook my head, my lips trembling.

'Thea, what do you mean you're _leaving_?' He repeated, forceful, though his voice had an edge of fear.

'You know what I mean, Jake.' I said softly, reluctantly bringing my eyes to his; just in time to see something break inside of him.

Oh god, what had I done? His face; for a second, it held nothing but pure horror and devastation. Then there was the panic, and the hurt; that was even worse to see. And last of all, there was the shock; shock because he just could not believe what I'd told him; _refused_ to believe it. And that refusal was growing, rising up to consume him, packing the single word that was his response.

'_No._' His hands on me were tightening, his gaze searing as he shook his head almost violently. 'No.' His eyes were pained as they looked down at me, his body pressing mine more firmly into the wall.

'You can't leave.' He said, the hand on my cheek trembling as his thumb drew a soft circle. 'Thea, please.' He sounded broken; so completely and utterly broken. It felt like _I _was breaking him to see him like to that, to feel it through the bond. And to think I had done that; _I _had hurt him.

'Jake…'

'Don't go, Thea. Please don't go.' I couldn't seem to look away from him, his sad brown eyes devastating. 'You have to stay. Please, please stay.' He was pleading now, and it was killing me.

'I can't–'

'No, Thea, don't leave. Stay. Stay with me, please.' Didn't he understand how much I _wanted_ to? It was taking all I had not to fall apart right that second, taking all I had to keep my tears back; because doing this was tearing me apart.

'I have to go, Jake–'

'_No_.' He said, clutching at me as if his life depended on it. 'Thea, I can't let you go.' He whispered, and then he was moving, his hot lips crashing down upon mine.

The kiss was fierce, fierce with his need; as if maybe kissing me would convince me to stay. As if maybe, if he kissed me hard enough and for long enough, I'd forget that I wanted to leave in the first place.

I wished it would. I wished I could just forget everything, and lose myself in the taste and feel of his lips moving against mine; but I couldn't. But that didn't stop me from kissing him back just as passionately, and with just as much urgency, because I didn't _want_ to leave. I wanted to stay, I wanted so badly to stay, but it was impossible.

So because this would probably be the last time I ever kissed him, I pulled him closer, grabbing his neck and his hair and deepening the kiss. He groaned, pushing me harder into the wall, if that was even possible, and I gasped at how good it felt to be surrounded by him and _only_ him. But as wonderful and consuming the kiss was, it couldn't last forever; too soon we broke apart, both breathing heavily as he continued to press against me.

'Stay.' He breathed, his face still just inches away from mine. I gave him a miserable look, unable to repress a sob.

'I want to, Jake. But I don't have a choice.' I whispered.

'Why?' He asked, sounding as if he was being tortured.

'Because if I stay, I'll die.'

For a moment, he simply stared at me. His complete and utter shock had taken over, and he didn't even seem to realise he was moving backwards, his mouth parted as he stared.

'_What?_' He eventually managed to choke out, sounding strangled. He looked horrified, devastated; as if someone had just kicked him in the stomach.

'I'll die if I don't leave.' I repeated, and now he was shaking his head, shaking it furiously as he looked at me.

'_No.'_ He snarled, suddenly storming forwards and pulling me so tightly into his arms that I thought he might crush me without meaning to.

'No, I won't that let that happen.' He said, so strongly that it left no room for argument. I could feel his hand in my hair as he pressed my face into his chest, and any other time it would have been wonderful to hug him like this; but not today.

'I'll keep you safe. I won't let anyone hurt you.' He said, and I could feel that he was still shaking his head in refusal. But he didn't understand, didn't know what I did, and I had to force myself to speak.

'You didn't hear what I said before, did you?' I mumbled against his chest, and he tensed slightly at how sad I sounded. He released me slightly, once again backing me against the house so that he could look down at me.

'You telling me you're leaving wiped everything else you said from my mind.' He said, his voice hard.

'You can't fight this.' I said softly.

'The hell I can't.'

'Jake–'

A loud and piercing howl suddenly sliced through the air, cutting me off and making us both freeze in position. Jake's head had whipped to look in the direction it had come from; the Pack was calling him. I didn't know how I knew that, but his indecision as he turned to look back at me confirmed it. He was staring now, analysing me; looking for something in my face. He didn't seem to notice that he was shaking slightly as he stared, but after half a minute, he suddenly stopped and sighed, his strong hold on me releasing slightly.

'Thea.' His gaze was searing as it met mine. 'The pack needs me; I have to go and find out why. But I need you to wait for me.'

'10 minutes; that's all I need. Please.' He asked, his tone almost begging. He _was_ begging, because he didn't think I would; because he didn't seem to realise that while I was breaking him, I was also breaking myself. He didn't know that I was telling him all this because I couldn't stand to leave him with nothing; leave with him without explaining. And he still didn't understand, so of course I would stay; I would stay until he did. I owed him that.

'Okay.' I said softly with a nod, but he still didn't move. The look he was giving me said he didn't know he should believe me; he didn't quite believe I was going to wait for him. And that hurt; hurt more than it should, even though I knew why.

'I'll be here, Jake. I promise.' I continued, and he let out a deep breath, leaning his forehead against mine.

'Thank you.' He breathed. And with one last searching look, he was off, disappearing into the trees at a run. I watched him go; watched him so intently that at first I didn't realise that without him to hold me up, I was sliding down the house. But I let myself fall; let myself keep sliding until I hit the ground so that I was sitting against the house.

I would sit, and I would wait.

Even though part of me thought that maybe I should leave now, because seeing and hurting him again was too hard, I would wait. I had promised him I would wait, and so I would.

But I had forgotten about the one thing – the only thing – that could make me break that promise.

Because after barely a minute had passed – a minute of staring at the trees as I waited – I felt it; the sharp, piercing pain of something stabbing me in the stomach.


	21. Fight

**Chapter 21 - Fight**

I gasped at the pain, my stomach clenching as I doubled over. It was over as quickly as it had come on; nothing but a memory even as I clutched at my belly. But that didn't matter, none of it mattered, because I knew what it meant, knew what I had to do.

I had to leave; and I had to leave _now_.

I scrambled to my feet in barely a second, urgency making my hands shake as I pushed myself off the ground. But once I was standing, I paused; even though I knew I should be running, and running fast, because I didn't know how much time I had. I paused because I had promised, _promised_ Jake I would be here; and I wasn't going to be. And I didn't want to part like this; didn't want the last thing I said to be a lie.

If only I had a choice.

'I'm sorry.' I choked out sadly, glancing miserably in the direction had had left. He wouldn't hear it, but I still said it; said it because it was the only thing I could say. And then I really was running, running in the opposite direction to Jake; and feeling the last of my control breaking in the process.

* * *

'Well, because I didn't go through all this to get the chance to kill you with my own hands, only to have you do it yourself.'

I gaped at Leon, shock and terror fighting for dominance over my body as I stared. He was grinning now, a horrifying grin that made me quiver slightly, my heart thundering in my chest so fast that I thought it would leap from my chest. I had no words, no words to respond; which seemed to be just the way he liked it.

'You have no idea how long I've waited for this.' He practically purred, stalking closer to me, his manner so predatory it was a wonder I hadn't seen this coming earlier. It took him just three lithe steps to come face to face with me, his shapeshifter build and height allowing him to dwarf my small body as he boxed me against the tree.

'Having to pretend, for all these years. You're father, Ephraim, was too powerful.' He snarled my father's name with such unbelievable hatred, I could only stare at him in disbelief. 'But now… Now he's long gone.' He grinned again at that; an evil grin, so evil that it forced my sluggish brain into gear.

'But why?' I croaked. 'Why do you want to kill me?' The look he levelled me at that was a combination of fury and disgust, somehow managing to make my fear spike even higher. He grabbed my shoulders and slammed me backwards against the tree, and for a moment my vision flickered black with the force. Leon was seething with anger as he stepped back and let me fall to the ground.

'You have to ask?!' He snarled, his eyes flashing dangerously as I looked up at him, slowly rising from my hands and knees. 'You should never have lived! If it had been my choice, I would have killed you from the start.' He said dangerously, his voice deep with hatred. I was on my feet now, trying to move away slowly so that he wouldn't notice; it wasn't working. His gaze narrowed as he moved forward, and I increased the speed of my retreating steps.

'You're not human! You're unnatural! It's a miracle you didn't kill us all in our sleep!' He shouted, his fists clenching and unclenching. I was shaking with fear, the effort of moving without taking my eyes off of him making my breaths come even faster; I couldn't afford to be trapped by him.

'Of course, no one else saw it. You had them _all_ fooled.' He spat, and I had to side step quickly around a tree as his pace quickened. 'But not me! I always saw you for what you were!' He said furiously, and I was forced to dodge as he lunged for me; he missed by just a hairsbreadth, and he growled in annoyance.

'But now; now, finally, they'll see the truth.' I hesitated at that; my first mistake. My pause gave him time to get within reach again, and this time he grabbed me when I tried to slip past him, forcing me into another tree and trapping me there as he had before. My breaths were fast pants now, my eyes wide as he glowered down at me.

'Now, everyone will see you for what you are; a vampire, and a_ killer_.' He snarled. I stared at him in confusion, quivering as his hands gripped my shoulders hard enough to bruise. I pushed back at him, trying to twist his arm to break his hold, but that only made him growl in anger, slamming me backwards again. I groaned as my vision spun, blinking frantically to clear my sight.

'I haven't killed anyone.' I whispered at him, my voice hard. He smiled for a third time at my words; and that was when I knew just how much trouble I was in. His face was just inches from my mine, and his eyes lit up with anticipation like a kid at Christmas; except no child had ever looked so cruel as he did in that moment. I had terrible, terrible feeling now, and I felt like my heart was going to burst with fear as he spoke.

'No. But I have.'

Four words. So simple, so innocent. But that was all it took. My mouth fell open, my breaths stopped, all the colour flooding from my face and leaving me pale as milk as my eyes filled with tears.

'You killed her.' I gasped with horror, my hand clapping over my mouth. He smiled even wider; that was all the response I needed. I let out a choked sob of despair. 'No! Oh god, Cass.' I whispered, and he laughed; he actually laughed. He let go of me then, and I fell to the ground, too weak to keep my feet. The tears wouldn't stop pouring down my cheeks, my whole body trembling with the realisation.

He had killed her. He killed Cass. He had killed my Cass. And even worse, he had killed her because of _me_.

The guilt; the guilt was tearing me apart. It was bad enough the she was gone, but to be responsible; I couldn't handle that. It couldn't be true; it couldn't.

I knew I needed to stop; needed to push all my emotion back because Leon was right there, and coming closer. I knew I needed to pull it together, because if I fell apart now I wasn't going to be alive much longer. But it was so _hard_; the pain, oh the _pain_, it was too much.

But if I didn't, no one would know why she was dead; no one would know what he had done. And it was that terrible, terrible thought – the thought that could get away with this – that helped me shove back all my emotions; just in time to be hauled to my feet my Leon's iron strong fingers locking around my neck.

'I'll tell them you killed her. They'll think it was you, and then they'll be glad you're dead.' I wanted to reply; I wanted to snarl and rage at him. But his hand was blocking my air supply, and it was all I could to shake my head in refusal as I fought the urge to splutter. My fingers were clawing at his hand, but he seemed to not even feel them; he kept talking as if nothing was wrong.

'But before I tell them just evil you are…' He continued, his tone laced with excitement, the gleam in his eyes sickening. 'I have to kill you.' Without warning, he stepped back, and I gasped in a huge breath if air, choking wildly as I hit the ground hard for a third time. My lungs were burning, _burning_ as I breathed, but the air was wonderful, so wonderful–

I screamed as I found myself jerked up by the hair, my moment of relief gone before it had even begun. My feet flailed in the air as held me up at his eye level, my hands latching onto his arm to help hold myself up before he tore my hair out. I glared through my tears at the cruel pleasure on his face, though he just smiled at me mercilessly.

'This is going to be fun.' He said, his anticipation clear; and then he struck me, his fist slamming into my face and making me groan at the pain. Now all I could see was black and red, my mouth filled with blood and my jaw agonisingly sore. He was dragging me across the ground now, and for what felt like the millionth time I found myself forced against solid bark. He was holding me with just one hand now, because the other was pulling something from his pocket; a knife.

No. Oh god, no. No, I didn't want to know what he was going to do with that. But it didn't matter, because somehow I managed to break the grip of the hand that was holding me, and my now _my_ hands were locking around _his_ throat as we hit the ground.

'YOU KILLED HER!' I screamed at him. 'WHY?!' His eyes flashed with rage; my only clue before he overpowered me. Now he was the one forcing me into the ground, his weight suffocating as he pressed down on me, the knife at my throat as he glared angrily.

'Since you won't be alive much longer, I guess you'll never find out!' He growled with malice, and then in a flash of silver, the knife was moving, plunging into my chest as I let out a terrible choked scream. I cried out again as he jerked it out, but I wasn't really paying attention because it _hurt_. It hurt, it hurt, it hurt.

I could the blood seeping out, and my hand scrabbled frantically to find the wound, making me cry again at the pain as my fingers found the torn flesh. He had stabbed me just below the collarbone on my left side; it must have been planned, because he'd missed the myriad of vital muscles and veins. Which should have been a good thing, except I knew what it meant; that he wasn't even close to being finished with me.

* * *

I couldn't do it.

I had reached the border half a minute ago, having run here in just minutes, but I hadn't crossed. I_ couldn't _cross. Because now that I was here, all I could think about was _why_ I had to leave, about what had happened to drive me out so many years ago, and it was hitting me hard, so hard because my control was _gone_.

It was so far gone that I didn't even know what control was anymore.

I was shaking, so badly that I had to cling onto a tree to keep myself upright, because I couldn't do this. I felt guilty, so unbelievably guilty, just because I was standing here; because I was standing here, and not waiting for Jake as I'd promised. He had _needed_ me to wait; and as his imprint, it was instinct to do what he needed. And going against his need, going against _him_; it was killing me.

It shouldn't be done, it just shouldn't be done, and the bond was screaming at me to go back, _go back_ because there was still time. There was still time to fix this, time to undo it before he found out, and god I wanted to, because imagining his face when he did find out was _horrible_. It felt like I was betraying him, because not only was I going back on my word, but I was going to disappear entirely.

And I didn't want to, I didn't want to do any of it; I didn't want to leave him. Already he felt so incredibly far away, the imprint stretching thin with the separation, and the lack of him made me feel so terribly, horribly empty. All I wanted to do was run right back in the other direction because I _needed_ to feel him again. Yet I couldn't, I wouldn't; even though he had begged me, _begged_ me to stay. He didn't understand, he didn't realise the corner I was back into; and that was an even worse way to leave him.

But I didn't have a choice; I had _never_ had a choice.

So I forced myself forwards, pushing myself away from the tree with trembling arms and walked slowly, so slowly, to the invisible line that was the cause of so many problems. It took just five steps; five steps that should have been easy, but instead might have been the hardest in my life. And now I really _was_ on the border, just a step away from the outside world. Just one step.

One step that I couldn't take. My legs had locked, because even though I was trying to bring myself to move, deep down I didn't want to, and that part was winning. But I was fighting, fighting as I stood there, because I needed to move, and move _now_.

Take the step, I told myself; I didn't move.

Take the step.

I felt as if I would fall apart from the stress, my own body now battling against me.

Take the step.

I was shaking my head furiously, tears trailing down my cheeks.

Take. The. Step.

My heart was racing at a million miles an hour, sound nothing but a dull roar in my ears.

TAKE THE STEP!

A moment of nothingness; my breaths stopped, the _world_ stopped.

I took the step.

And then I was falling to my knees.


	22. Suffocating

**Chapter 22 - Suffocating**

I was falling to my knees because the moment I had stepped, the stretched out imprint had tightened, growing taut as if I had reached the end of a string connecting him to me, and me to him. And even as I felt and realised that the imprint would stretch no further, I was stepping, stepping and then falling because I had been yanked back so hard that my body crumpled in on itself.

I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe because the imprint was pushing down on me from all directions, just like it had when it had first come about, and my lungs were being smothered by the weight. I couldn't even cry out from the pain of it, couldn't make a sound as my knees hit the ground. My fingers were digging wildly into the dirt as I gasped for air, but my lungs were emptier than ever, and they were _burning_ now, burning as I suffocated.

I needed air. I needed air, and I needed it now. My whole body was shaking from oxygen deprivation, my vision was morphing into a blurry haze, and my too fast heartbeat was thundering in my ears. And the _pain_; god, it was like someone had shoved a red hot poker down my throat, like there were razor blades in my lungs, because every failed attempt at breath hurt ten times worse than the last.

This wasn't like the stabbing pain I'd been remembering just moments earlier. Because something wasn't being driven into me, stabbed into me, but was instead being taken. My air was gone, taken, _stolen_ by the imprint; but that wasn't all.

My heart. The imprint had it, had it linked to Jake by an unbreakable bond; a bond that had a limit, a limit I'd just found. And the imprint was pulling me back, pulling be back _hard_. I felt as if it was going to be yanked from my chest, my shaking body seizing up because my heart was being strangled, constricting and clenching and leaving me in agonising pain.

I needed to go back. I needed to go back, because it was physically impossible for me to go forward, not with the imprint an indestructible tether that _could not go any further_. I needed to go back because for one horrible, horrible moment Jake had been almost gone, and now he was all I could focus on, the person at the end of bond that was all but killing me. I would have thought that it really _was_ killing me, but that was so completely against the idea of being imprinted that I didn't know if it was possible.

But whether I was dying or not, I needed to go back, and go back _now_.

Except when I pushed against the ground with my hands, my head spinning wildly because I still couldn't breathe, my arms crumpled under the weight. I had barely a second before my torso hit the ground, and in a last desperate effort I threw myself to the left, my shoulder slamming into the dirt. But whether I was on my side or on my front, it didn't make any difference.

Because I was now just seconds from losing consciousness, and I couldn't get back. I couldn't move, couldn't breathe, couldn't see; couldn't do anything. I couldn't get back.

The borderline was _right there_, but I couldn't get back.

I couldn't get back.

I would never get back.

* * *

_Jake's POV_

I was just about to head back to Thea when I felt it.

I was worried, so worried about Thea, my thoughts distracted and slipping into the pack mind far more than usual. I could barely focus on my brothers voices because I was trying desperately to figure out what was wrong, because something very obviously was. She was panicked, she was scared, she was tearing herself apart, and I didn't know why. And then she had talked about leaving and dying, which were both too horrible to think about, and that had just confused me more.

I needed to know, I needed her to explain; but before she could, I had left her. She had promised to wait; and even though at first my fear had made me unsure of her agreement, I trusted her promise.

So even when I felt the sudden distance between us, so much more than it should have been if she had stayed and waited, at first it didn't sink in what it meant. She had promised to wait, so it was hard to believe that she would go back on her word. But the distance was huge now, the imprint so dilute I could barely feel her, and the terrible feeling that gave me overruled my reluctance to believe she had left.

Because the bad feeling was only growing, giving me a sick feeling me in my stomach, and hadn't even realised I'd stopped and turned my head to look in her direction, my claws pawing at the ground with anxiety. I had tuned everything out; everything but her. I couldn't hear the pack's thoughts, though I knew they were there. I was focusing completely and entirely on her.

I felt the imprint, already stretched so thin, suddenly grow taut. The terrible feeling was even worse now, my instincts screaming at me to do something, because this was wrong, so wrong, and I needed to do something because something _awful_ was about to happen. I took a step forward, almost without meaning to, because the wolf side of me was practically forcing me forward; but it was too late.

Because Thea had pulled at the imprint that was already stretch to its limit, and it hurt. It _hurt_. The imprint should never be pulled like this, never be stretched so far, because it felt like we were being torn apart, and I almost fell to the ground from the pain that was searing through my system. But I couldn't, I refused to fall, because I could feel Thea's agony, and it needed to _stop_, and stop _now_.

And so I was running, running faster than I ever had before after roaring fiercely from the pain. I wasn't focusing on where I was going, but it didn't matter because the imprint knew where to go, and was sending me practically flying the through the trees. And all I could think while I ran was that I was losing her, I was losing my imprint, and I couldn't, I couldn't, I couldn't.

I could not lose her.

But it felt like she was being ripped from me, and even though I was getting closer and closer with every second that passed, the pull wouldn't stop. It was like I was imprinting on her all over again, the weight and pull so unbelievably strong that if I hadn't be so overwhelming panic and scared of what was happening, it probably would have flattened me to the ground. But while she should have been feeling closer than ever, and even though the imprint was pulling and pulling and _pulling_ her to me, something was wrong.

Something was very, very wrong.

I could feel her, but I couldn't. She felt close, and yet she didn't. Something was off, something had changed; and I didn't like it. Being able to feel her – her presence, her location, her emotions – that was good. But not this new… detachment. It was as if now that the imprint had been stretched, it wasn't shrinking back again; and that was so, _so_ worrying. Even after three and a bit days I had grown accustomed to feeling her; and I had liked, more than liked, the closeness that was being imprinted to her. I didn't want to lose it; I didn't know if could _stand_ to lose it; I didn't know if I could back to not feeling every aspect of her.

But all of those worries were shoved violently to the back of mind when I _finally_ found her.

And then I was skidding to a stop, because seeing her sprawled across the ground was _terrible_, and I howled at the pain I got from seeing her there. This wasn't like watching her sleeping; which I liked, because she looked so small and delicate when she did. But even though she looked like she _was_ sleeping, stretched out on her side with her eyes closed, I felt no comfort whatsoever knowing that the imprint had forced her unconscious. In fact, comfort was the opposite of what I was feeling as I struggled to imagine how painful it all must have been that she had passed out because of it.

But all of the worry I had about the imprint paled in comparison to the sudden and consuming fear that flared to life when I realised that Thea _wasn't breathing_.

No. Oh god, no.

I didn't remember phasing and pulling on my jeans; it seemed as if one moment I was reeling from finding her unconscious on the forest floor, and the next I was on my knees beside her, my slightly trembling hands pulling her towards me. She didn't move at all at my touch, her body light and limp as pulled her into my arms, which made my concern soar to new heights; part of me had been hoping that if just touched her, that would reverse things. But her eyes didn't open, her chest remained still, and as I held her tightly to my chest, I wondered if I'd underestimated just how much of an impact the imprint had had.

Her heartbeat was so fast; faster than it should be, even for a half-vampire. It was both simultaneously worrying and not; because while it should be slower, at least it was there, one of the only signs there was to indicate she was still living. I shook my head then; that was not a train of thought I wanted to follow.

She would be fine. She would be fine, she just needed to time to recover. I kept repeating the words, trying to convince myself; it wasn't working. It wasn't working, because even though I was holding her, she _still_ didn't feel right; and I didn't know how to fix it.

I needed to fix it, but I didn't know how.

I didn't know how.

I didn't know how.

But then Thea was suddenly sucking in the quietest breath, and I heaved an enormous sigh of relief as I gripped her tighter. She was breathing. Thank the heavens, she was breathing. Breathing softly, so softly, but it was vast improvement from nothing at all. I tried to focus on that; tried to focus on her breaths. But the panic wouldn't go away, wouldn't be shoved to the back of my mind, and I was once again left scared because she felt _wrong_.

She felt wrong; and it needed to stop.

And so I found myself standing, lifting her with me, her head turning inwards so that her cheek was against my chest. I could feel the lightest wash of air across my skin every time she exhaled, her breaths not changing in beat as I began to walk. Her slow breathing was the only thing keeping me walking instead of running, the soft sighs calming, forcing me to remind myself that she was breathing, that she would be fine, and that she just needed time.

But time was going to be hard, so hard, because I didn't _want_ to wait. Didn't want to wait with my heart in my throat, struggling to keep calm. Usually I could do patience; usually, I was good at waiting; but not today. Not today, because I wanted her to be better _now_, wanted to feel her again _now_, because I needed it so badly it felt like I was going to explode from the pressure. But even though I knew waiting was going to be torture, waiting was what I would have to do.

And I would stay by her side for every second it took, because _nothing_ was going to be strong enough to force me away.

* * *

When we reached her house, nothing had changed; she was as still as ever as I slipped into her bedroom. It wasn't unexpected, but I had hoped; even though my gut feeling was telling me that this was _not_ something you just got up and walked away from easily.

That was what Jared had said when he had met me halfway here, wondering what the hell was going and why I'd suddenly disappeared with such a burst of anger and pain that the whole pack had felt it. His mildly horrified expression when he'd caught sight of me with an unconscious Thea in my arms hadn't at all helped me in my goal to stay calm, and nor had his stunned disbelief when I explained what had happened. Still, once he'd recovered, he had agreed that time was what was best for her, and it had been more relieving than I would have thought to know that he too believed it would work.

But that didn't change the fact that as I ever so gently laid her on the bed, she was as motionless as ever, my concern fiery and strong as I stretched out next to her. I didn't even think as I pulled her into me, my arm snaking around her waist, shifting her so that her head was leaning against my chest. Just days ago I had been torn with wanting to do this; wanting to know what it would be like to have her pressed against me. Now though; now I could muster only the smallest sliver of enjoyment from it. Because even though it was wonderful to be able to run my fingers through her hair as she breathed against me, my gaze was concerned, not affectionate, as I watched her.

Watched her, and began to think.

Began to think about _why_ she was currently passed out in my arms. It was something that hadn't registered, not when I'd felt the bond almost tearing, not when I'd found her unconscious on the ground. But now though; now I had to think about it.

I had to think about the fact that I'd found her on the borderline of La Push, and the reason the imprint had burned with agony was because she had tried to leave. Tried, and failed, to leave. Failed, because the imprint hadn't let her. The imprint had a limit that neither of us had known about, and she had found it.

She couldn't leave. It wasn't possible for her anymore; the imprint was too strong. She couldn't leave; or rather, she couldn't unless _I_ was with her. Because _we_ had left, barely two days ago; zooming down the highway and flying down the road on my motorbike without even a hint of a problem. She had left then, but she hadn't been able to leave today; and the only thing that had changed was me. She needed me; and god knew I needed her. And the need was so strong that neither of us could stand to be apart; which was both good and bad.

Bad, because I felt terrible that because of the imprint, because of _me_, she had been hurt. And good, because I didn't _want_ to be apart. I felt guilty for being glad that she was like this, but I couldn't help but be relieved that something, at least, had stopped her from leaving. I couldn't stand it if she left; I had told her that I _couldn't_ let her leave. And now, I didn't have to stop her.

She _had_ to stay. And while it kind of seemed like the imprint was keeping her here against her will, I knew that she wanted to be here. She had told me so, cryptically and confusingly, saying that she wanted to stay, but couldn't. Well, now she had to, and whatever she was running from, she didn't have to worry about, because _I_ would keep her safe. Even though she thought it was impossible, I would keep her safe.

I would keep her safe, and I would keep her with me. I would keep her with me, not just because the imprint wouldn't have it any other way, or because she couldn't leave.

But because I was more than fine with her staying right by my side.


	23. Trapped

**Chapter 23 - Trapped**

_Thea's POV_

I couldn't wake up. Or at least, not completely. Which was strange for me, because not only did I usually sleep lightly, but I also didn't wake up slowly; the consequences of being perpetually wary. Now though; now, even though I was trying to wake up, I couldn't.

And I didn't know why.

My lungs were aching, my heart felt like it was slowly burning, and the rest of my body was so unresponsive it might as well not be my body at all; and I didn't know why. I didn't know _anything_. Not where I was, not why I was both numb and hurting, and not why Jake felt kind of funny through the imprint. In fact, I didn't even know where Jake was. Which really shouldn't be strange, but over the last few days I had gotten into the habit of feeling for him when I woke up, and it was more disorienting than it should be not to know. But what was even more confusing was that while I could in fact feel him, he felt both incredibly far away and extremely close; which didn't seem possible.

How could he be close and far at the same time? I didn't know, but nether-the-less it was true, and way too puzzling for my sluggish brain to compute. In fact, _all_ of this was just bewildering, and I needed to start thinking about what I _did_ know, instead of what didn't.

And what I did know was that I was warm. So wonderfully, reassuringly warm. The warmth was _everywhere_; around my waist, underneath me, enveloping me so completely that I breathed out a soft sigh as I soaked it all in. But then the warmth was moving, shifting about, and it moved into my 'didn't know' category, because since when could warmth move? Last time I checked warmth didn't gently trail through my hair or down my cheek, and it certainly didn't pull me towards it as it was currently doing now. And even though being closer to it was heavenly, confusion beat my pleasure, and with all the force I could muster, I forced my eyes open, because I _needed_ to know what was going one.

But when I finally managed to sleepily blink my resistant eyelids open, I found myself even more perplexed.

My vision was a wash of caramel brown.

What? I blinked again, but it didn't disappear. It was still there, the only thing I could see. True, it was quite pretty, but I'd been hoping to become less confused, not more so; and more confused was certainly what I became when a familiar voice came from just above my head.

'You're awake.' I jolted in surprise, my eyes flicking upwards. I knew who the speaker was, of course; but I was still surprised to see Jake peering down at me. How the hell had I not known he was there? He was the moving warmth, his lovely tanned skin the brown I had been so baffled by. A connection I should have made instantly, but hadn't because my mind was working slower than a snail's pace. Hadn't, because even the slight movement that was my surprised jerk made me whimper slightly in pain, my heart constricting in my chest as I gasped.

'You need to rest.' Jake said softly, his face wearing a worried frown. I gave him a puzzled look, opening my mouth to disagree; I had just woken up, why did I need to sleep? But my breath before speaking made me whimper again, because the air I was sucking in felt like shards of glass down my throat. Jake's eyes darkened as he watched me, the hand that had been stroking my air pausing and moving to rest against my cheek.

'Sleep.' He said more firmly this time, and even though I was more bewildered than ever, I found my eyes closing of their own accord. I wanted to shake my head and ask for an explanation, because I was over being confused, but my body was betraying me. It had been hard to just _wake_ up; staying awake was another thing entirely. It shouldn't be so hard, but I just didn't have the strength. It also didn't help that Jake's warm was just so inviting; it made me want to melt against him as it sunk into me.

And so even though my brain was trying to kick gear, I ended up doing exactly that; falling straight back into unconscious as he repeated his command for the second time, his voice nought but a whisper.

'Sleep.'

* * *

Thankfully, the next time I woke things were different; and not just because the room was darkening now from the approaching night. Things were different because this time I _immediately_ noticed that I'd been sleeping in Jake's warm arms, and it made me to shiver slightly to think of it.

He had stayed. He had stayed and held me, and by his closed eyes and quiet breaths, had obviously fallen asleep doing so. It made my heart melt to know that he cared so much; to feel the arm around my waist tighten. He felt so good against me, his large body dwarfing mine, his heated skin the reason I was so delightfully warm. And for one wonderful moment, I could simply enjoy the pleasure of being so close to him. But too soon my mind was thinking, and thinking hard, because Jake sleeping next to me wasn't the only thing that was different.

Waking up was different because one) I knew exactly where I was and what had happened, two) I didn't have to fight just to keep myself conscious, and three) my breaths were no longer torturous, and I no longer felt as if my heart was being squeezed into non-existence. All of which were good things, but I was kind of wishing I could go back to how I had been before; because while being confused wasn't fun, it was preferable to thinking over everything that had happened. And it wasn't so much everything, but rather one particular fact, that I didn't want in my mind. One fact, with three words, that was going to destroy me.

I couldn't leave. Oh god, I couldn't leave. I clapped my hand over my mouth in horror, muffling my sad cry. Jake shifted against me slightly, and I stiffened, fearing I had woken him up; which would be both a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because I was about to fall apart, and I knew he could keep me together. And a curse, because I didn't want him to see this; he could not see this.

I didn't want him to see me fall apart.

And so I ever so gently extracted myself from his hold, slipping quietly out of the room; only realising, as I carefully shut the door behind me, that I was trembling. But I forced myself away from the door, into the kitchen, before I let my emotions take hold of me.

And take hold of me they did.

A heaving sob escaped my lips, and I had to grip the kitchen counter to keep myself upright, my knuckles white as I did so. I was shaking, my legs struggling under the pressure, because of those three words.

I couldn't leave.

After 36 years of the opposite being true – knowing that I could not, under any circumstances, stay – the tables had been turned. And it should have been a miracle; I hadn't wanted to leave, and now I couldn't. Instead, it was a death sentence.

Death sentence.

Death sentence.

I only half noticed that tears were now streaming down my cheeks, dripping onto the counter below; I was too busy falling apart, trying to process it all.

I should have known this would happen. Coming here was forbidden! Yet I had thought I could keep sneaking around the rules. And now; now I was facing the consequences. Or rather, just one consequence; one that I couldn't bear to put into words.

But the worse part of all was that it was unavoidable.

I had pretty torn myself apart – and maybe Jake as well – this morning, trying to prevent this very thing from happening. Because I had thought I knew the limits of the rules, and had tried to stick to them. But now everything had changed, the rules new and dangerous, and now instead of trying to figure out a way to live through the week, I was left with nothing but the choice of _how _I wanted to die.

How I wanted to die.

I let out a soft cry at the words, my breath hitching in my throat as a sob escaped me. Perhaps it was bad of me to feel so distraught over impending death; I was almost seventy, and compared to most, I'd had a good life; and a long one. But that didn't change the fact that I didn't _want_ to die, and that I was scared, so scared, knowing that it was coming for me. It was one to thing to know that death would come eventually; but whole thing entirely to know you weren't going to make it through the week.

And so maybe I _was_ entitled to fall apart with fear from the knowledge, my grip on the counter finally failing as I slid to the floor. I wailed quietly as hit the floor, my tears fast now, pouring down my cheeks as I shook from the sobs. My nails were digging into my palms as I fought to keep the last of my control in check, but I knew it was pointless.

Because the only thing that could keep in control now was Jake, and he was still gone.

I could feel him, and not feel him; he was both near and far. And while I_ knew_ he was in my bedroom, it didn't feel like he was. It felt like he was distant, so distant; on the other side of the world distant. The loss was crippling; and it was his distance, his absence more than anything else, that pushed me over the edge.

An edge that forced me to cover my mouth with my hands as tried to muffle my pained cries, my fearful whimpers.

This couldn't be happening. I couldn't die. I couldn't just sit around and wait for death to come to me; I physically could not do it. I had _never_ been a waiting person; but now I was trapped, backed against the wall, and I _hated_ it.

I had thought things were bad before. I had thought, foolishly thought, that having to leave Jake so that I could live was hard. I had hurt him, and me, doing what I knew I had to do; the _only_ reason I had even considered hurting Jake was because the other choice was death. And so I had forced myself, _torn myself apart_, to save my life.

And it had all been for nothing.

* * *

The knowledge was crushing, destroying. For a while, I had no clue what was going on around me, what I was doing; my emotions were too overwhelming. Overwhelming, and consuming.

That was what I was; consumed. Consumed with pain, fear, sadness, and anger; the combination of which left me rocking backwards and forwards and I fought the urge to start banging my fists against the cupboards in front of me. But while these emotions were not about to disappear or weaken anytime soon, eventually I zoned back into the world around me; because I needed to make a choice.

A choice between bad, terrible, and unthinkable, in what was probably one of the worse situations anyone could ever end up in. And while I didn't _want_ to make a choice, didn't want to plan how I was going to die, this choice was all I had; the _only_ thing I had control over. And it was almost comforting to have a choice, because I had always been the chooser of my own path.

But it wasn't just that. The other thing that brought me back some measure of composure was hoping, even though I knew I shouldn't, that maybe, _maybe_, if I thought about it hard enough, I'd find a way out.


	24. Deciding

**Chapter 24 - Deciding**

_Thunk._

Again, the kitchen knife lodged into the plaster of the wall, the soft thud comforting and familiar. Breathing out slowly, I picked up the next one from the impressive pile beside me, fingering the handle and balancing it in my palm. I did it all so, so slowly, taking my time as I paused to line up my throw, breathing deeply before I let the new knife fly across the room.

_Thunk_.

It hit the target perfectly; it was aligned at exactly the same level as the others, all of which were spaced exactly 3cm apart. I repeated my actions, again unnecessarily slowly, adjusting for the new blade, before lodging yet another knife tip into the wall.

_Thunk_.

I had long since lost track of how many times I'd thrown the entirety of the kitchens knife collection. Too many for sure, even while I made sure I took my time. Slow was good, slow was calming; slow was keeping me distracted, and not letting me sink back into a broken mess. Slow was me being pedantic, making absolutely sure the line of knives across the wall was _perfect_; not a blade too high or low, too close or too far. I _needed_ it to be perfect; not just to occupy me, but because at the moment, nothing else seemed to be.

I had been thinking, thinking hard and deep, about how to get out of this. But the truth was, I had nothing. I had known I had nothing, but still I had tried; tried and failed. And so the throwing knives across the kitchen from my spot cross-legged on the floor was the _only_ thing keeping me somewhat together right now, because knowing I was trapped was devastating. Not surprising, but devastating all the same.

So, having all but given up on escaping, I was left contemplating _how_ I wanted to die. And it was, as I'd remarked earlier, a choice between bad, terrible, and unthinkable.

A slow death, fast death, or painful death. Not that any of the options were painless, but one in particular would be _very_ painful; and that was a death I wanted to avoid at all costs. I had spent _years_ avoiding being killed by Leon; I knew he planned to kill me slowly, torturously; and I refused to be part of it.

Which left me two options: fast or slow. The fast death; that had almost come about today. I was sure that if I tried to leave La Push again, and kept pushing on away from the border, it would kill me. But doing that would pretty much be suicide, and I balked at the idea; killing myself would be giving in, and that I refused to do. Plus, I was pretty sure I couldn't even bring myself to do it; I didn't have it in me. Add in the fact that I didn't want to hurt Jake by tearing at the imprint as I had today, and I wasn't too keen on a fast death.

Leaving just the slow death; the death that was the reason I couldn't stay in La Push. Death from the very ground I was sitting on, because to me, the land was poison, and it would fight to keep me out. It would kill me slowly; was already killing me slowly, and had been for more than three days. I didn't know how long it would take; a few more days, maybe? It gave me more time the other deaths would, that's for sure, but that wasn't the only advantage.

The only thing that made a slow death even somewhat bearable was knowing that I would get to spend more time with Jake in the process; which was _way_ too appealing. How could I ask him to pretty much watch me die? That was cruel. But at the same time, I couldn't imagine him cutting me off to save himself; if today was any indication, he wouldn't take this lying down. It would be hard to get to him to understand; but I had to. He needed to.

Yet despite this, a slow death definitely seemed the best choice; it was the only option I was willing to go with.

But there was a problem. A _big_ problem.

The problem was that while I was waiting for a slow death to take me, it was more than likely the painful death would find me first.

I _knew_ that Leon looked for me every year around this time. He knew it was when I was most likely to be sneaking into La Push, and twice I had fallen into his hands because I hadn't been able to stay away. Fortunately, I had escaped; but this time, that wouldn't be possible. I was a sitting duck, trapped on Quileute soil. And so I was left contemplating one _very_ important question.

Was choosing a slow death worth the risk?

I didn't know, and it was that question I couldn't stop think about as I threw knife after knife after knife. Every few minutes I would run out, and I'd be forced to walk over to wall and pull them all out, one by one, butter knives and steak knives and chopping knives and any other blade I'd been able to get my hands on. And then I would settle back down, the collection of almost thirty blades next to me on the tiles, and begin again.

And it was as I was sitting myself down for yet another throwing round that I remembered something; a snippet of conversation with an old friend, that was bizarrely relevant to my internal debate. We had met when I first joined the police force; more than 30 years ago. David and I had been good friends immediately, and had even been partners for a time. Until, as always, I had left after five years; before people noticed things I didn't want them too.

However, I'd been too late to hide it from him. David didn't know what or why or how or _anything_, really; just enough to know I was different. And he'd been perfectly fine, not just knowing I was not quite who I had pretended to be, but with not knowing the specifics. And so, to my delight, we had remained friends; a rare treat for me. I still saw him often; though of course, we had to be vague about how we knew each other. However, he was now the chief commissioner for Seattle's police force; a station that was more than bit helpful in helping keep my secret, and fending off questions.

And it was a particular conversation with David that I had remembered, about what we both thought would be a good way die, and so without thinking, without pausing, I found myself calling him. And as the phone rung, and rung, and rung, I kept throwing my knives, waiting somewhat impatiently for him to answer. I needed to know; I needed an answer. Fast or slow. Fast or slow. And after what felt like an eternity–

'_You know, I was starting to think you'd forgotten my number._' He said with a hint of a smile, skipping straight passed hello and going straight to conversation. '_You usually just turn up announced._' Any other time, I would have grinned at his words. Not tonight, though. Tonight, it was all I could do to keep my voice steady. Tonight, all I cared about was fast or slow.

'Do you still believe fast death is better than slow one?' I asked quietly, my voice hoarse and broken. Apparently, I wasn't as in control of my emotions as I'd thought; not that that was surprising.

'_Do I WHAT?_' I heard him ask, his tone alarmed and incredulous. Dammit, he hadn't answered; and I _needed_ an answer. Fast or slow, fast or slow. Should I risk slow? Should I choose fast?

'Die fast or die slow?' I repeated, and this time my voice sounded even worse, cracking halfway through. Fast or slow, fast or slow; it was a mantra in my head, the only thing I could focus on. It made my voice somewhat urgent, and I wondered if he heard it.

'_Thea, are you ok? You don't sound well._' He said slowly, his concern obvious.

'I need you to answer the question; it's important.' I replied, unable to hide a sliver of panic and fear, and there was a pause on the other line after my whispered words. Dear god, please tell me he's going to answer. I just needed one word; fast or slow. Fast or slow.

'_I'm not answering until tell you me what's wrong. Are you sick?_'

Fast or slow.

'No, I'm not sick.' I didn't even think before I replied; though, it was the truth. Kind of.

'_I doubt that. You sound terrible._' He sounded like he was about to launch into a speech, and so I cut him off. Fast or slow, fast or slow; I couldn't wait.

'I'm not sick. I'm dying.' I said slowly, my voice shaking. I heard him gasp on the end of the line.

'_WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE DYING?_' He all but shouted, his voice demanding in my ear. I didn't reply, noticing for the first time that I'd stopped my knife throwing, and that my whole body was shaking because of it. He said something else, but I didn't catch it; he had faded into the background, like everything else.

Fast or slow. Fast or slow. Fast or slow. Why couldn't he just tell me!

'_Thea, for the love of god, tell me if you're still there._' His desperate voice cut through.

'I'm here.' I said softly, my hand gripping tightly the hilt of a small wooden-hilted dagger; the one I kept on me at all times. 'Though I won't be for much longer.' There was another long pause.

'_You need to stop this_.' I sighed.

'I can't stop this; believe me, I tried.' My voice broke, and it took me a second to realise that tears were once again slowly rolling down my cheeks.

'So please tell me; fast or slow.' I repeated, and he said nothing. 'David, I only have until tomorrow. Maybe the day after, if I'm lucky.' I whispered, hoping it would get me the answer I needed.

'_TOMORROW_!?' He shouted, and started on a tirade of words that I couldn't hope to follow. I didn't have the brain capacity, the strength, or the will. I knew, though, that he wasn't going to answer; I would never know if he believed in fast or slow.

'Goodbye David.' I said softly, sadly.

'_Thea, don't you DARE hang up–_' His voice cut off mid-sentence as I hit the 'end call' button. The phone fell from my frozen fingers, landing in my lap, but I didn't pay attention to it. The tears were spilling down my cheeks faster now, I clapped my right hand over my mouth to hold back a sob. My left hand was still firmly clenched around the wooden hilt of the dagger, shaking with the rest of me as I tried to pull myself together; but I could feel that it wasn't working.

In a last ditch effort, my right hand frantically grabbed for a knife from the pile, hoping that distracting myself again would keep me in one piece. I would have thrown the small one I already had, but it went against instinct to part with it; I never knew when I might need it. But I was moving fast, too fast, and this time when I launched the blade into the air, it sunk into the wall more than foot below target. I stared at the slightly quivering knife for a moment, stunned by my inaccuracy. I got the feeling I could have stared for minutes, maybe even hours, as I tried to comprehend it; except I was interrupted, Jake's soft voice loud in the silent house.

'What are you doing?' He asked, and I turned my head to look at him. He was standing in the entrance of the kitchen, taking up the whole of the doorway. I had to blink the tears out of my eyes to see him properly, but that only made them fall down my cheeks; a fact I was sure he noticed as his I felt his concern spike. It was the first emotion I'd been able to pick up from him since the border incident, and I should have been happy; instead, all I could do was stare at him.

'Thea?' He said my name as a question, and still I stared; because Jake was right.

What _was_ I doing? What was I doing, sitting on the kitchen floor, in the dark? Night had fallen in the time I'd been here, and only my enhanced sight allowed me to see the wall I was using as a target. What was I doing, throwing knives at the wall anyway? What was I doing, calling up friends to randomly ask whether I should die quickly or die slowly?

Jake took a step forward then; maybe because I still hadn't answered, or maybe because he just needed to be closer. Either way, it didn't matter; because my softly spoken words stopped him in his tracks.

'I'm deciding how I want to die.'


	25. Reliving

**Chapter 25 - Reliving**

'I'm deciding how I want to die.' I couldn't have sounded more broken if I'd tried. All of Jake's air whooshed from his lungs in a surprised huff, his shocked expression also a mixture of concern and fear. He said nothing as he stared at me, and I couldn't blame him; what was there to say, really? But then he was suddenly moving forwards, moving so fast that I couldn't follow his movements; though that might have been my mental imbalance, more than his speed. Regardless, in just seconds he was by my side, his arm brushing mine as he sat. His hand lightly took hold of my chin, stopping me from turning away.

'No.' He said quietly but firmly, shaking his head as one of his large hands dusted over my cheeks to wipe away my tears. 'You're not going to die.' Now it was my turn to shake my head. I opened my mouth to correct him, but closed it at Jake's fierce gaze.

'Thea, you are not going to die.' He repeated, and I gave him a sad look.

'Yes, I am.' I whispered, and until I heard the slight shakiness in my voice, I hadn't realised I was trembling. Instinctively, I found myself leaning into Jake, my head falling to rest on his shoulder as I lowered my gaze. My eyes fell on the dagger in my left hand, my fingers tightening around the carved wooden hilt; though just a second later they were overlapped by Jake's own.

'You're not going to stab yourself with that, are you?' He asked softly, his warm fingers slipping between my own so that now we were_ both_ holding the dagger. 'You know I would stop you if you tried.' He murmured, turning the dagger over in our hands.

'I know.' I replied quietly.

'Then why won't you believe me when I say I won't let anything happen to you?' Jake asked. I stiffened at the question, raising my eyes to meet his confused and slightly hurt gaze.

'I don't doubt you, Jake.' I said after a pause. 'But you don't know what I do.' The hand that was overlapping mine tightened its hold at my sad words.

'Then tell me. Let me help you.' His voice was quiet but strong, his eyes smouldering as he stared down at me. I breathed out softly, biting my lip. I wanted to tell him, I _needed_ to tell him; but I didn't know how.

'I don't know where to start.' I eventually said.

'From the beginning?' He suggested. I shook my head.

'I don't know where the beginning is.' I breathed, confusion lacing my words.

'With this, then.' He said, raising the dagger to indicate what he was talking about. 'This is the same knife you attacked me with the other night?'

'Yes.' I said in a small voice.

'Do you always have it with you?' I nodded against his shoulder. 'Why?' He asked.

'Because it's not just any knife.' I felt Jake straighten with curiosity at that.

'Why? Did someone give it to you?' I was silent for a second before answering, my voice quiet but hard.

'In a way. It depends if you count someone stabbing me with it as giving.' He froze at my words, letting out a somewhat strangled growl.

'Someone stabbed you with it?' Jake asked, shock and reluctance making his voice so quiet I could barely hear it.

'Yes.' I said softly. 'And he did so more than once.'

* * *

I rolled onto my side as I let out a quiet scream of pain, pulling my hands away from my bleeding shoulder. My palms and fingers were red with blood; my blood. The very thought made me cry out, because this couldn't be happening, it just couldn't be happening, how could I not have seen this–

My scream when his foot connected with my injured shoulder made my previous cry sound like a whisper. I hadn't thought my collarbone could hurt any worse, but I had been _so_ wrong. Because now the pain was searing, _burning_, my whole left arm numb from the pain, pain making my eyes fill with tears. But I had to blink them away, and blink them away fast, because a shadow had just loomed over me, and I needed to move–

I tried to roll, but I moved barely an inch before his foot came down hard on my stomach, breaking at least one rib in the process. This time my scream was more of a strangled cry, because it _hurt_. It hurt too much, way too much, and it took me a second to realise he was talking again. I forced my brain into gear, fighting through the agony so that his uninterpretable mumbles became words; and immediately regretted it.

'You know, I've changed my mind; I _am_ going to tell you why I killed your aunt.' He said far too cheerfully, leaning against a nearby tree to stare me with malice. 'But where to start? I needed to kill someone; to make it impossible for you to head back into Quileute land without dying, you see. Which, as you may have noticed, doubles in allowing me to hurt you without suffering for it myself.' I let out a choked sob at that, trying to curl in on myself to ease the pain; which was bad idea, because it only made my broken rib jab sharply into my lung, causing me to cry out quietly. Leon only grinned, continuing to talk.

'And then I needed to weaken and distract you so I could get you out here; what better way to kill the person you're closest too?' He said matter-of-factly, and I felt fresh tears began to flow down my cheeks. Oh god, I shouldn't have started listening. When I had screamed the question at him, I hadn't _really_ wanted an answer. But now that I could hear the words, I couldn't seem to tune him out again; not even when I forced myself to roll away from him, groaning at the agony that ripped through me.

'What else? I now I have justification for killing you.' He continued. 'And I suppose watching your pain at her death was just a bonus.'

A bonus. Watching me lose one of the people I loved most was a _bonus_. Just in case I didn't already hate him, that line would have made me do so. I couldn't comprehend the words; couldn't understand how he could be so unbelievably cruel.

I needed to stop listening; I needed to stop because I didn't want to hear what he was saying; didn't want to hear the horrible words. I didn't want to hear him savour my pain; hear him talk about murdering my aunt Cass as nothing but a means to an end. But at least while he was talking, he wasn't trying to kill me; and so I blocked him out, blocked it all out, and just tried to breathe. I tried to breathe through the pain, through the rib that I could feel that was so, so broken and digging into me. But I had to breathe, had to breathe so I could get myself out of this; if not in one piece, than at least alive.

But even as I thought the words, he had finished speaking. I could sense him coming up behind me; I could imagine his sadistic anticipation.

I had run out of time.

Because now he was pulling me upwards, his arm jerking me from the ground by the waist. His horrifying laugh was the only warning I got before the knife was coming down again, driving deep into the right side of my back. I didn't even have the air to scream; I could only gasp, soundlessly crying out from the agony. His arm was the only thing keeping me up, my legs having no hope at all of taking my weight; I was all but limp in his hold.

Except now he was pulling the knife out with a sickening slowness, the slick sound making my stomach heave. I could feel blood soaking into my back, warm and sticky, and the horribleness of it almost gave me enough to strength to move again. But then he was driving the dagger into me for the_ third _time, plunging it into my back again, but lower this time. I felt it scrape against a rib, and I shuddered at the agony.

It was too much. It was all too much. My vision was nought but a dark blur, his evil laugh dull and distant in my ears. Every part of me ached, my lungs burning, my torso alive with three searing points of pain from the accursed dagger.

And it was just as my three stab wounds became four, my right side suddenly flaring to life with agony, that my body finally gave up. Even though I was screaming at myself to stay awake, stay awake, _stay awake_, because I _knew_ that if I didn't, I probably wouldn't get the change to be awake again, I couldn't do it.

It was just too much.

* * *

I wouldn't have gotten anywhere without Jake. Focusing on him, his hand wrapped around mine, was probably the only thing keeping me together. But with the imprint all but gone – my _control_ all but gone – there was only so much he could do. He couldn't keep me from slipping away; sometimes to stare at his hand, or the wall, and other times to stare at nothing as I remembered. Yet though he couldn't quite keep me all there and in one piece, he did keep bringing me back and pulling me together.

And so, with his careful words and touch, I had begun to talk; talk about _him_.

Leon. Murderer. Betrayer.

* * *

'There were four wolves in the old pack.' I said. Jake gave me a confused look.

'I thought there were only three?' He asked, his eyebrows crinkling in bewilderment. 'All of the legends and stories mention three.' I shook my head.

'There were four. But one was erased from all the records.' Jake blinked in surprise at that, and hesitated before speaking again.

'Why?' He eventually asked, his tone wary; I gave him a sad look.

'He did things that were unforgivable; and he was exiled because of it.'

* * *

That had been the beginning. From there, I honestly wasn't sure where the conversation went; my roiling emotions, frequent memory flashes, and complete lack of control meant that it was hard to keep track. I was sure I talked about some things twice, and others not at all, which should have worried me; Jake needed to know _everything_ if he was going to make sense of it. But it was so, so hard to worry when I couldn't stay on the same train of thought for more than few minutes. At one point I was sure I murmured that I'd forgotten to tell him something; but whatever it was, it remained forgotten.


	26. Weak

**Chapter 26 - Weak**

_Jake's POV_

Thea had trailed off midsentence almost a minute ago. It wasn't the first time since she had started explaining that she'd stopped for a while, frowning lightly as she stared at the dagger we were both still holding. But it _was_ the first time she hadn't continued, and if her sad and not-quite-there eyes were any indication, she wasn't going to be doing so anytime soon. A fact that I should have been able to pick up immediately, and would have if the imprint was at its usual strength; except it wasn't.

The imprint at the moment was a poor, weak version of what I had grown used to, and it was grating on me. At first I had thought it was just the fact that I had grown used to its strength, and that its sudden change was why I was feeling so off balance. Now, I wasn't so sure. It wasn't so much that I wasn't _used_ to not feeling her, but more that I _needed_ to feel her; and needed it badly.

And I couldn't help but wonder if that was the cause of Thea's scatteredness, because as shocking and horrifying some of things she was telling me were, I didn't think they were completely the reason. Of course, it was hard to judge, because I couldn't feel a damn thing from her at the moment, but was sure that I was right. Some of this stuff she had known for years; and apart from a shudder or a frown, it didn't seem to overly bother her. Besides, yesterday she had been perfectly fine; something _had_ to have changed since then.

The obvious answer would be that now she thought she was going to die before the end of the week. Which made me cringe every time I even thought about it, and even now I couldn't contain my shudder. But while impending death would be enough to make anyone upset, as she so obviously was, I had a feeling there was something else. Because this morning, she had also been upset, but right now was _entirely_ different. Something hadn't just changed since yesterday, but between this morning and now; and I could think of only one thing.

The imprint; or lack thereof. It wasn't gone, but nether-the-less, it was hitting us both hard. It was so, so disorienting, to have it so messed up; my sense of her was so whacked that if I hadn't been able to see, hear or smell her, I would've been a challenge to figure out whether she was 10 metres or 10 miles away. I hadn't even noticed she had left me; it had been surprising and scary to wake up alone, not having a clue where she was. And then I had come out and found her; on the floor, small and shaking, with an impressive line of knives stretching across the wall; her failed attempt to get it together. Failed, because when she turned at my words, the knives were no longer in a perfect line, tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked at me. Yet I hadn't had a clue of just how troubled she was, because _I couldn't feel her_.

Even now, with her leant against my arm, head on my shoulder, I couldn't feel her. She was _right there_, but I couldn't feel her; and it was killing me. It was killing me, because even as I turned her so that she was looking at me, I couldn't quite get a read on her slightly dazed eyes, and that worried me. Not just because she was ill, but because I didn't know how to fix it. I had hoped she would sleep it off, but that clearly hadn't worked. It had been hours, which might not be that long considering what went down, but I had hoped for shorter. Yet I didn't really have a choice, and since I still thought resting was the best option, I knew what I needed to do.

'Thea.' I said quietly. She blinked at me, her brow furrowing as she looked at me. Clearly, she hadn't been at all aware she had zoned out; again.

'I'm sorry, Jake…' She paused midsentence, looking even more confused. 'I must have been distracted. I don't remember where I stopped talking though…' Again she trailed off, her voice light and slow. I tightened my grip on her hand and the knife we were both holding, and hooked my other arm around her waist; she needed to rest, and this state, I didn't trust her on her own. Of course, that wasn't the only reason; after everything she had tried to explain tonight, I didn't plan on letting her away from me anytime soon. I still didn't quite understand everything to be honest – it was going to take time to properly think over – but there was something I had to do first. And so I stood, pulling her up with me; it made her blink again as she swayed slightly, my arm keeping her in place.

'What are you doing?' Thea murmured, her hair brushing tantalising against my bare chest as she moved, looking up at me with blue eyes that were now slightly more aware. If she hadn't been so unwell, I would have loved to kiss her; if I couldn't feel her through the imprint, at least I could feel her through touch. But I resisted, because now was not the time; she needed to get better first.

'Taking you to your bedroom, so you can sleep. Then hopefully the imprint will go back to normal.' I replied, gently steering her down the hallway. She frowned at my words, which had me worried, until she spoke.

'The imprint still isn't right.' She said quietly. 'I don't like it; it was better before. I could feel you then; I can't now.' It seemed she disliked the distance as much as I did, which should have made me smile; it was good to know I wasn't the only one who liked the imprint. But the fact that the imprint _wasn't_ all there at the moment stopped me from grinning.

Because I couldn't help but wonder if I was ever going to get it back.

No. No, I couldn't think that. I would get it back; I had to.

I kept walking, tugging Thea over to the bed; she sunk into it with a soft sigh, and I let her hand slip from mine as she fell into the mattress. I followed, noting that she had taken the knife; I wondered briefly if I should be worried that she thought she needed it. I dismissed it a second later; after what she had told me tonight, I couldn't blame her for wanting security.

I looked at her then, her body lying next to mine; _really_ looked at her. Her eyes almost black in the darkness, gazing upwards, her skin looking the same colour as mine. Her hair falling into her face as she turned to look at me, so soft when the ends brushed me; this time I couldn't resist running my fingers through it, grazing her forehead lightly as I did so. She smiled at that; just the slightest upturning of her lips.

'What are you looking at?' She asked quietly, her voice holding a hint of curiosity. I smiled.

'You.' She gave me a slightly strange look; a mixture of surprise and amusement, maybe.

'Why?'

'Why not?' I replied, and she laughed softly, really smiling now. God, it was so wonderful to see her smile; especially after everything that had happened today. In a split second, I decided to head my own words.

And so I snaked my arm around her waist, pulled into me, and ever so gently let my lips brush against hers. She gasped slightly at the sudden movement, but didn't protest; her palms pressed against my chest, her parted lips amazingly soft against my own. The kiss was so deliciously sweet, almost making up for the strangeness of the imprint. But while it was sweet, it was also short. Short because Thea wasn't herself, but I needed to reassure myself that she was still there; which was what I was doing as I hugged her to my chest, breathing her in.

She had buried her face just below my collarbone, her breaths warm and soft against me, and I revelled in the feeling. It felt so _good_ to have her in my arms like this. And even though I had held her just the same when I first brought her back to the house today, this was different; and_ so _much better_._ Better because while she was still lovely and warm, and still so incredibly soft, she was awake; awake, and pulling me closer. And it was beyond good to have her do that, because her curling in on me was amazing, even more so because _she_ was doing it, not me.

'You scared me today.' I murmured against the top of her head, tightening my arm around her waist. That was why I needed to hold her; because she had scared me. She had scared me when she was upset, because it was so out of character for her, and I hadn't known why. She had scared me when she had said she was leaving, and when she had said she was going to die, because both were incomprehensible to me. She had scared me when she had stretched the imprint, because it had felt like losing her, and when I had _finally_ found her, she had been unconscious and not breathing. And now; now I was scared because the imprint wasn't going back to the way it was before. Hell, I had been scared for her too much today.

'I'm sorry.' She mumbled sadly, her voice quiet and muffled against me. She paused for a moment, before speaking again, a bit uncertainly.

'I hope you know I didn't _want_ to leave.' Thea said in a small voice, and I let my free hand stroke her hair gently in reassurance.

'I know.' She breathed out a soft sigh.

'Good.'

* * *

We fell silent after that; she was lost in her thoughts and I was lost in mine. Thea was meant to be falling asleep so she could sleep the aftereffects of today off, but that had yet to happen; probably because she, like me, was struggling to comprehend everything.

After all, it wasn't every day that your imprint informed you that she thought she was going to die. _Thought_ being the key word, because it_ wasn't going to happen_. It could not, would not happen. She was mine. _Mine_. And I refused to let it happen; if only she believed me.

She knew things I didn't; or rather, _had_ known things I didn't. But now; now I knew. Maybe not everything, but I knew the important things; I knew about _him_.

Leon, the fourth member of the old pack; a shapeshifter we hadn't known existed. A shapeshifter who, with all the strength and speed of a werewolf, was trying to kill _my_ imprint; and had already tried to kill her.

It wasn't that I hadn't already known something like this had happened; the scars on her stomach were a glaring indicator that it had. And it wasn't that I hadn't known he was still walking around, or wondered what exactly had happened. But finally hearing the explanation about it all was _hard_.

I couldn't feel Thea's emotions as she talked, which for once might have been a good thing; because I didn't know if I would have been able to hold myself in check if I had. Already it was difficult enough to just _see_ her emotions; see her shoulders stiffen, mouth harden, eyes watering. It went against the imprint to watch her like this; every part of me wanted to stop it, to help her, but I resisted; I _needed_ to know. But even worse was hearing the words, because what was she was telling me had _already_ happened, and there was _nothing_ I could do about the past; no matter how much I might want to.

And so while she talked, I listened. Listened with a clenched fist and stony expression, focusing in on her because she was distracting, and would help me keep control; control which became thinner and thinner as she spoke.

He had killed her aunt. The bastard had killed her aunt; just because he wanted to get to her. I wasn't sure which angered me more; the murder, or the fact that it was pointless murder. And then he had dragged my imprint away, while she was too upset to fight back; the mental image of that made me growl in anger and frustration. But that wasn't even the worst part.

The worst part was when he began to torture her.


	27. Cold

**Chapter 27 - Cold**

_Jake's POV_

Thea and torture just didn't go together in my mind. I could not, _would not_, accept it. Even as she oh so softly reflected on it, I was shaking my head, because every instinct within me was screaming NO.

No. No no no.

Oh god, I couldn't handle this. _I could not handle this_. The rage was incontrollable, burning through my veins and making my blood boil. I didn't even know what exactly had happened; neither of us wanted to go there. But my imagination was more than enough. Imagining how the scars on her stomach had come about, imagining the knife plunging into her; it made me shake with white hot anger. I wanted to break things, I _needed _to break things, but most of all I wanted to break that knife. The knife we were holding, the knife that had _hurt her_. I wanted to crush it, crush it in my hands; I didn't even know if I _could_ crush a metal dagger, even with my strength, but I was more than willing to find out.

Except there was something more important. _She_ was more important. She didn't want me to break it, to break everything I could get my hands on, or to kill him; even though my wolf instincts were crying out for me to do all three. She just wanted me here, _needed_ me here, and so I would be. I would be here. I would _always_ be here.

And she would always be safe. She was as safe as possible right now, moulding against my body and encased in my arms. And she would stay that way; she would stay with me, or I would stay with her. Either, both, whatever; I would protect her.

_He _would not touch her. He would not go near her. He would not even enter the rez, if I had anything to say about it. If he tried, we would catch him. We would catch him, and because Thea wanted to, I would let her kill him, instead of me. And she would never have to worry again.

Because she was not going to die. She was not going to be hurt. And since I knew her secret now, she might actually be mine.

* * *

It wasn't until hours later that I began to wake. And I was waking so, so slowly, because I'd slept deeply last night, and the only reason I wasn't still sleeping was the blinding light that was searing through my eyelids. But even though the brightness was almost painful, I resisted the urge to groan and roll over; because I wasn't sleeping alone.

Thea was lying so wonderfully against me, her soft hair tickling my chest, her hands pressing into my skin. I breathed in deeply, revelling in her sugary scent of wood and flowers; how was it possible for someone to smell so _good_? She was like a drug, the glorious smell making my wolf instincts rumble in satisfaction. But what was even better to realise, as my nose grazed the top of her head, was that she smelled like me. Not strongly, but that didn't matter; it still made me grin to know that I'd spent enough time with her for it to show.

With my senses now full to the brim with her, I was more awake. Blinking my eyes open, the room slowly came into focus, the light not as bright as it had seemed when I'd first been yanked from sleep. Not that it mattered, because I wasn't focusing on the light; I was focusing on her. I could see her eyelids fluttering slightly as she slept, her steady breaths proof that she was sound asleep. Of course I didn't even need proof; the imprint had told me she was sleeping the moment I had–

My eyes widened.

The imprint.

The imprint was back.

I sighed in relief, smiling softly as I gently pulled her closer. Thank the heavens, I could feel her again. She was close, so close; the distance from yesterday was gone, as was all the confusion. I could feel exactly where she was, I could feel her emotions, and I could feel _her_; _really_ feel her.

And it was even better than I remembered.

* * *

Though it practically killed me to do it, I slipped quietly from Thea's room half an hour later. I really _didn't_ want to, and I would have loved to stay right where I was, but there were several _very_ important things I had to tell the pack; like the fact that someone wanted to kill my imprint. And it was that enraging knowledge that motivated me as I ever so gently slipped from the bed.

Somehow I managed not to wake Thea in the process, which was a tad surprising, considering how lightly she usually slept. I almost wished I _had_ woken her, because then maybe she would have asked me to stay; and I knew wouldn't have been able to resist the temptation. But when I walked toward the door she was just as asleep as ever, which was probably good thing; it made it easier to leave, shutting the door softly behind me.

Yet though I could no longer see her, I couldn't help but hesitate, not turning away as I knew I should; after yesterday, it didn't sit well to leave her alone. I could feel her again, and I could tell that she completely fine, but still I didn't move; until I heard a voice behind me.

'I didn't know you were here.' Sera's voice was quiet but surprised, and I spun to see her standing at the end of the hallway, giving me a curious look. 'I didn't think you'd come back if Thea wasn't here.' Now I was the one who was surprised.

'She is here.' I said slowly, giving her a careful look as I nodded my head towards her bedroom door. 'She's sleeping.' Sera was gaping at me now, her disbelief clear as she struggled to form words.

'But– But she was supposed to leave yesterday.' She stammered, confusion making her voice light.

'I know.' I said softly, and a tad sadly. 'And she was going to.'

'But she didn't? Why? She can't stay, it's too dangerous.' She said, her voice fast with worry.

'She tried to leave.' I replied, voice hard at the memory and making Sera pause.

'Tried? What do you mean she "tried"?' She asked slowly, her concern plain.

'She can't leave.'

Sera stared at me blankly for a moment, stunned into silence.

'What do you mean she can't leave!' She eventually choked out, eyes wide with fear. She looked horrified; as if I'd just announced that Thea was dead. Maybe, to her, I had; she obviously knew that Thea was in danger. But what she didn't know was that I was going to keep Thea safe.

'The imprint kind of… wouldn't let her.' I replied, walking down the hallway towards her as she gave me a confused look. 'It's complicated.' I sighed. If anything, Sera looked even more worried now.

'But she has to–'

'Don't worry.' I said, cutting her off as I stopped beside her. 'I'm not going to let anything happen to her. She's perfectly fine. And if anything changes, I'll know.' I continued, looking back towards Thea's bedroom door.

'I don't know…' Sera said unsurely, still looking uneasy.

'She'll be okay.' I replied. 'I'll be back to check on her soon.' I said, and unable to resist glancing once again in Thea's direction, I slipped from the house.

* * *

_Thea's POV_

I woke up cold.

It took me a second to realise I was trembling, the unexpected chill yanking me from sleep as I shuddered against the bedding. Brushing my hair out of my face, I gasped as my hand skimmed my forehead; my skin was like ice, and my eyes flew open at the shock of it.

I was cold. I was _more_ than cold; I was freezing.

And I didn't know why. I had never been cold before; my supernatural warmth made it impossible. Yet, I was cold now; and it scared me. All I could think was that I needed to be warm, needed to be warm _now_, and so in a rush, I slipped from the bed, my head spinning and making me stumble from the suddenness of it. If I hadn't been so distracted, I would have noticed then just how wrong everything was; I _didn't_ stumble.

But I was cold, so cold, and that was all I could focus on as I rummaged through my dresser, pulling on fresh clothes as fast as I could. I didn't register that I was swaying slightly as I stood, and I paid no attention to the fact that my skin was far too pale against the red top I pulled on; I just wanted to be warm.

But warmth was completely and utterly wiped from my mind as without warning, I suddenly found myself falling to the floor.

I tried and failed to catch myself on the dresser, hitting the ground hard as all my air was pushed from my lungs with a whoosh. I narrowly avoided slamming my head into the floorboards, but regardless, it was throbbing with pain; pain so fierce that I began to wonder if maybe I _had_ hit my head. I felt as if someone was driving a white hot poker iron through my brain, the agony making me cry out as I pushed myself into a sitting position.

Was it just me, or was the world spinning slightly? I blinked, shaking my head to clear it; but when I opened my eyes, the world was still tilting, my head swimming as I stared.

What was happening? God, it hurt just to try and think it through, my lips unable to hold in a whimper as I pressed my hands to my temples. My head _hurt_; it hurt so much, _too_ much; and I didn't know why.

I didn't know why I hurt, or why the world was spinning, or why I was shaking from cold; I just wanted it to stop. It _needed_ to stop. But how? How to make it stop? I didn't even know what was wrong.

All I knew was that when I had woken, I had been cold, so very cold, and I couldn't think, couldn't remember–

I gasped, my eyes flying open despite the dizziness. My vision was worse now, blurry as well as spinning, but it didn't matter, none of it mattered, because I knew what this was.

I knew what I hadn't been able to remember.

Last night I had _known_, I had known I'd forgotten to tell Jake something. I had tried to tell him everything, I had _needed_ to tell him everything, but I had forgotten one crucial detail. I didn't know how it was even possible to forget it, but I had; I had forgotten.

I had forgotten to tell Jake that Quileute soil was now poison to me.

That's was this was. That was why I was kneeling on the ground, feeling as if my head was going to split open. That was why I felt sick with dizziness, and for the first time in my life I was shivering with cold.

I was poisoned. And I was dying.

I let out another cry as my head suddenly burst with pain, feeling as if my head was going to split open. I grit my teeth, feeling my eyes begin to fill with tears; I was dying, and it _hurt. _It hurt so much, so so much, and all I wanted was for it to stop. I couldn't even process that stopping it probably meant death, because I couldn't handle this. I could not handle this. I needed something, someone, _anyone_ to make it stop.

And just as the thought popped into my head, the answer followed.

Jake. Jake would help me. And Jake would make it stop.

The words were like a mantra in my head as I scrabbled at the bed for something to hold onto, hauling myself up off the ground. I couldn't help but whimper as I swayed on my feet, my face scrunched with pain; I had thought things were bad before. But this; this was worse, so much worse. All I wanted to do was to crumple from the agony of it all, because I couldn't see a thing through my flickering vision, and my head ache was so piercing and stabbing I felt as if I would die from the pain of it. But I couldn't; I had to find Jake.

With no idea where I was going, I staggered forwards, hopefully towards the bedroom door. I moaned as I unexpectedly bumped into a wall, leaning against it to steady myself because my legs felt so weak I was surprised I was still upright at all. My hand frantically fumbled across the smooth plaster, desperately searching for the door knob as I scrunched my eyes shut, a pained sob escaping me because it hurt it hurt it hurt–

Somehow I found the door handle, yanking it open and stumbling into the hallway. My breaths were heaving and fast as I blindly walked, my pulse roaring in my ears in time with my thundering head ache. I cried out softly as my left shoulder slammed into something hard, my body falling into the wall and sliding down a few inches before I caught myself. Part of me wanted to just let myself fall; to give up and give in because it hurt _too much_. But I forced myself forward, staying against the wall for balance as I slowly staggered; I needed Jake. Jake would help me. Jake would make it stop.

Seconds later my legs gave out, and I lurched sidewards, barely processing what was happening as I fell. With a sickening _crack_ my head slammed into plaster, blackness overwhelming me in a wave as my breaths stopped and a heavy silence met my ears. My body colliding with the hard ground jerked me back, my pulse thudding in my ears as I cried out at the impact.

Too much. It was all too much. It needed to _stop._

I didn't know how, but I was on my hands and knees now, crawling along the wall. It was brushing my right side, until suddenly I was keeling over, sliding down the wall until I was again crumpled on the floor.

It hurt. Everything hurt.

I was reaching out my arm now, trying to find something to help pull me forward; I needed Jake. But there was nothing to grab, even if I had the strength, and now I was limp, completely limp. All I could see was blurred darkness, dangerously slow thumps of my heart echoing in my ears.

I couldn't do it. I needed to move, but I couldn't.

God, my head hurt. It hurt too much, _too much_.

I needed to, but I couldn't.

Stop. I needed it to stop.

Jake.

I needed Jake.

I needed… Jake.

I needed…

needed…

_Jake._


	28. Voices

**Chapter 28 - Voices**

_Jake's POV_

Something was wrong.

The feeling had been creeping up on me slowly, so slowly, but it was strong now; something was definitely wrong.

And it was something to do with _her_. Thea.

I had thought things were normal again. The imprint was back, and she had felt completely fine; to me, anyway. She had been sleeping, which made it harder to read her; and so I had worried slightly that maybe I wasn't picking up something I should be. But she had woken not long ago, seemingly happy and content, and so I had dismissed my nagging concern that she hadn't recovered from yesterday.

Now, though; now, I wasn't so sure about it all. She felt… different. Not like yesterday, with the imprint all confused and stretched; this was something else. She was still there, she was still close, and she wasn't sleeping, but there was something that had changed that I couldn't put my finger on.

And it wasn't until I overheard Quil telling Claire to stop that, she was going to get cold, that I realised what it was.

Thea felt cold.

Without consciously deciding to move, I was out the door and heading through the trees towards her. Because I could be wrong, but I was 90% sure that half-vampires didn't _get_ cold. She was warm, like me; and through the imprint, she had always felt warm. It was a warmth that I liked, because nothing felt that way to me; she was an exception, her heat comforting and alluring.

But now the warmth was gone, and I didn't know why. It made my worry spike, because after yesterday, I was more than bit protective of her; and not just me, but the wolf also. The wolf wanted to find her, and to find her now, because they this wasn't to do with yesterday; this was something else, something _bad_. And even though logic said that being cold wasn't life threatening, the wolf said otherwise; and if I knew anything, it was that the wolf was almost always right.

I walked fast, too fast towards the house as it came into view, leaping up the stairs two at a time. I let the smells of the house fill me as I breathed them in, but even knowing that no one but Thea's family had been here didn't calm me. I was probably just imagining it, but the house seemed quiet; too quiet, even though I could Thea's soft breaths from inside. Worry made my voice hesitant as I called out for her.

'Thea?' The silence that followed was pressing, and I felt my fear jump up a notch at the lack of response as the seconds ticked by; I knew she could hear me, and it scared me to think of why she wasn't answering. In a rush, I pushed through the front door, the unlocked wood swinging open easily. However, I found myself pausing just as I crossed the threshold; because the quietest sound had just reached my ears.

'Jake.' It was barely even a whisper, and for a second I was stunned by how weak the word sounded from her lips. But then I was surging forward, my large strides fast as I hurried down the hallway, concern consuming me as my eyes frantically searched for her. What had happened, what was wrong, to make her sound so feeble? I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer.

But even though I knew something was wrong, and even though I was searching for her, I wasn't expecting the sight that met me as I turned the corner.

My eyes flew first to her bedroom, the door open wide, but a quick glance was all I needed to realise it was empty. Thea wasn't here; but she was close. My gaze roamed the corridor then, which was strangely dark; a shadow on the ground at the end caught my immediate attention. It wasn't until I took a slow step forward that I realised my mistake; that wasn't a shadow.

That was _her_.

That was _her_, her body crumpled on the ground, her hair a dark wave spread across the floor.

_No._

'Thea.' The word was quiet and strangled, escaping me without thought. I was moving towards her before I even had the chance to think, my breath catching in my throat as I fell down beside her. For the first time I noticed that not only was she sickly pale, her usually tan skin almost white, but she was trembling, her closed eyelids quivering as she breathed fast. But even though I could feel her through the imprint, it didn't sink in as to why she was shaking until I slipped my arms around her, and felt with shock her icy skin.

Cold. She was so, unbelievably cold. The imprint hadn't done it justice, because as I pulled her against me I could _see_ her shivering, her body radiating a fierce chill. But even worse than all of that, even worse than finding her almost passed out on the floor, was the fact that I had no idea what was wrong.

And I had no idea how to help her. I didn't know _why_ she was like this. An hour ago she had been fine, I was sure of it. And yet somehow, even though no one had been here, and even though she hadn't left the house, she was now limp in my arms.

Almost the same thing had happened yesterday, but this was ten times worse; because yesterday, I had known what had happened, but right now, I knew less than nothing. And that scared me, scared me badly, because what could possibly have happened for her to be like this? I didn't want her to be like this; the imprint _hated _seeing her like this.

But I didn't know how to fix it. I needed her to be awake, I needed her to be well, but I didn't know what to do. I had to help her, _save her_, but I didn't know how; and it was killing me. Fear from the imprint had taken hold of my brain so that all I could think was that she needed to wake up.

She needed to wake up

_She needed to wake up._

* * *

_Thea's POV_

A sudden burst of heat yanked me from blackness.

I whimpered softly, the heat burning against my cold skin as it seared through me. I shuddered at the feeling, for a second overwhelmed by it all. But even though the shock of it was painful, I couldn't help but be relieved; for two reasons. One, because it meant I was awake again; and not dead. And two, because I knew what was the cause.

Jake.

Jake was here. He was everywhere, his warmth seeping into me, and I couldn't help but sigh softly; Jake was here. But as reassuring and comforting as he was, I couldn't deny that part of me wanted to have stayed unconscious; at least then my head wouldn't be consumed with such a fierce pounding I could barely think because of it. But even though it hurt, and hurt badly, I forced myself to think; because something had caught my attention.

I could hear something.

At first it didn't register, the heavy silence that had settled over me repressing the sound. It was an easy task, considering the pain that was still ripping through me; the agony in my head made it impossible to focus, the world nothing but burning blackness. But the muffled noises were growing louder now, deep thumps in my ears, and I couldn't help but feel that they were important.

I needed to know what the sound was.

And so despite the pain, I strained my ears, trying to concentrate on what I was hearing.

At first the noises remained meaningless; unidentifiable and subdued. But as the seconds ticked by, it slowly came to me that I _knew_ this sound; I recognised it from somewhere. If only I could think when I had heard it before…

It suddenly struck me that the thumps had a pattern. A familiar pattern, one that almost made sense. But what was it…

In a rush, realisation struck.

Jake. The familiar sound was Jake, his wonderfully deep and rumbling voice the pattern I could almost make out. And the pattern was words, words he was speaking; words I needed to understand, but couldn't quite yet...

'Thea.'

My name. He was saying my name. And he was saying it with such concern, such _need_; it made it even nicer to hear.

'Thea, wake up.'

The concern was still there, sharper now; I could hear the hint of panic in his voice. If I could have, I would have frowned; I didn't want him to be worried.

And then there was the words themselves; _wake up_. As if I could just _choose_ to wake up. Didn't he realise that I couldn't? Didn't he realise it was all I could do to just make sense of his voice, and to not crumple under the pain that was splitting my head open.

'Wake up, _please_.'

Dammit, why did he have to say that? Whenever he asked me _anything_, every instinct in my body screamed at me to do it. It wasn't that I didn't _want_ to wake up; I did. But already I hurt, hurt too much, and being awake was so much worse; I couldn't do it. I couldn't, but Jake wanted me too.

_Jake_ wanted me to.

'Jake.' I breathed his name; or at least, I hoped I did. I hoped he heard me, because I _needed_ him to; I needed him to help me.

'Thea?' The relief in his voice was almost overwhelming. 'Thea, what happened?' He asked softly, his words packed full of worry once again. I wanted to answer, but I couldn't seem to make a sound; if I could have, I would have moaned in frustration. I didn't have a clue how to explain everything, but I wanted to at least try; I wanted to at least _try_ and save myself.

'I need you to tell me what's wrong.' Jake said, his voice somewhat urgent as he spoke. The urgency spurred me into speaking, though I had no control over what I was saying; my brain didn't connect to my mouth anymore.

'Cold.' I croaked. 'It hurts.' I whimpered, and I thought I might have heard an angry growl in response. I wanted to tell him more; I needed to tell him more. But again my voice had disappeared, and my words were nothing but silence as I tried to speak.

_Poison_, I wanted to tell him, but my body wouldn't let me.

_I'm dying_, I tried to say, but the words were nothing but a soft sigh.

'I need to know how to help you.' He said, desperation adding a fierce hardness to his tone.

Help me. Jake wanted to help me. But he needed me to tell him what to do. I knew what he had to do, I just had to tell him. _I had to tell him_.

'Border.' I whispered, so quietly I wasn't sure he could hear it. He needed to take me to the border. That was the only thing that could save me.

'Border? Thea, I don't know what that means.' Jake said with confusion, and I could hear his panic making him frustrated. I knew the feeling; once again my voice had gone, and not being to tell him what I needed to was driving me crazy. I _couldn't_ tell him. I didn't have the strength to tell him. But he needed to know.

He needed to know.

'Sera.' I said softly, hoping he would understand. Sera knew, Sera could help; Sera could tell him what to do.

And she would have to, because with a terrible lurch, I was suddenly overcome with a disorienting sense of wooziness. I heard Jake say something else, but I couldn't make sense of it; once again, the words were muffled and meaningless in my ears. I could only hope he had understood what little I'd been able to say.

And with that final thought, I found myself once again forced into empty blackness.


	29. Explanation

**Chapter 29 - Explanation**

_Jake's POV_

I didn't know what I was doing. Or rather, I didn't know why I was doing nothing.

Nothing but watching her, pacing, and waiting.

I had already established that my usual patience didn't hold up well when it came to Thea's health; or lack thereof. The wolf wouldn't let me sit still when she wasn't well, and it was even more frantic when I didn't know what was going; like now. It wanted to help, wanted to save her, wanted to run circles around her to keep her safe. Every instinct screamed at me to _do_ something, _anything_, because she was currently half-dead in my arms.

The problem was, what I needed to do was wait.

To say I was conflicted was understatement. To help was to do nothing, and the wolf thought doing nothing wasn't helping. And, after just five minutes of holding her close as I leant against a tree, the wolf won over. I had had just enough time to lay her on the ground and back a few steps away, pulling of my clothes in a rush, before the animal burst through with an angry snarl. But even in wolf form I was far too restless, worry sending me into action, and so I found myself padding soft circles around her; trying, and failing, to shake off my unfulfillable need to move.

Because an hour later, I was still pacing. I was circling around and around her small body, stretched out on the ground, and I was still as edgy as ever. It didn't matter if I moved slowly around her, each step practiced and careful, or if I moved fast, not quite running as I tried to get it out of my system.

I just couldn't _stop_.

I had tried. Sometimes I would move up to her, gently nudging her and sniffing her, hoping it would distract me; it didn't. I had tried stretching out next to her, letting my fur brush against her as I curled my body around hers; I had hoped the closeness would calm me. But watching her, my muzzle on the ground as I stared, couldn't stop my restlessness; nothing could.

And so I paced, around and around, and thought.

Thought about the reason I was stuck doing nothing; because Sera had told me to.

Thea had breathed her name, almost inaudibly, before what little life I'd managed to coax out of her had fled in a rush. Still, it had been enough; enough for me to finally have some idea what to do. Thankfully, Sera had been easy to contact once I'd found the phone; and she seemed to know exactly what was going on. Though her initial reaction to finding out Thea was passed out in my arms had been of fear and surprise, she had been quick to suggest a solution; if only it had made a bit more sense.

I just didn't see how being outside Quileute territory was supposed to help. Why did it matter if we were here, or 20m to the right, and on Quileute soil? Still, Sera had been very specific; get her over the border. And I had done exactly that.

If only I knew why it had _anything_ to do with Thea. I had asked Sera, who obviously knew something I didn't; only to be told that Thea should be the one to tell me. And I supposed she was right; I did want to hear it from Thea herself. But not knowing was _hard_. Not knowing was driving me round and round in circles, because I wanted to know _why_ my imprint was passed out on the ground.

But until she woke up, I would have to wait.

* * *

I had just curled myself around her, settling down onto the ground so close to her that we were almost touching, when it happened; she moved.

My ears perked up and my body tensed as I watched her roll towards me with a soft sigh. I rumbled as the bare skin of her arms brushed against my fur; her skin was getting darker now, and the trembling was gone, making me breath out heavily in relief. I couldn't get too happy yet; her eyes were still closed, and she was just as cold and unconscious as ever. Still, it was a start; soon she would be better. She would be better and awake; and mine.

But for now, I would just enjoy her. Enjoy touching her, smelling her, watching her; because now that she was improving, I could finally do what I'd been trying to accomplish for the last hour; calm down.

* * *

Being calm was good. The wolf had finally stilled – somewhat – letting me phase back and sit with Thea in my lap instead of circling around her. Which was good – not just because I could watch her more carefully now, seeing the colour slowly return to her skin – but because her body leaning into my chest, her head fitting just below my chin as she curled into me, was far more satisfying than it should be.

And it only got better, because with a soft exhale, she finally spoke.

'Jake.' It was the quietest whisper, but the effect it had on me was far from small. My name. She was saying my name. And the way she said it; not just as the first thing on her mind, but with _need_; even though she was passed out in my arms, the wolf couldn't help but rumble with contentment. It just sounded so good coming off her lips; so good that for a moment, it didn't register that her speaking meant she was waking up. But she was moving now, her face turning into my collarbone as she breathed out; until she was suddenly inhaling with a gasp, her body jolting as her head flicked upwards and her eyes flew open.

For a moment, she just stared at me, her lips parted as she did so. I stared back, watching her closely; for a second, I had felt a sliver of panic through the imprint, and the tense set of her shoulders was worrying. But the small spark of fear was gone now, taken over by a far stronger sense of relief and recognition.

'Jake.' Another second of staring passed, her relief-filled voice rolling over me. And then, without warning, she was collapsing against me. She threw her arms around my shoulders as she crumpled, her face burying in the crook of my neck as she let out a whimper.

'Thank god you found me.' She mumbled breathlessly into my skin, relief making her voice thick as she melted against me. I couldn't help but smile softly as I tightened my arm around her waist, breathing in the smell of her hair as I enjoyed the moment; she was glad to see me. And god, it felt good to be wanted, _needed_; especially by her. But at the same time, I couldn't help but worry; because her relief was _so_ _strong_, it made me wonder what exactly had happened that she felt that way.

* * *

_Thea's POV_

I inhaled Jake's wonderful scent as I clutched at him, pressing my face into his shoulder as I soaked up his warmth, the heat fierce against my cold skin. I wondered if he knew the reason I was collapsed against him; not just because I wanted to – though I did – but because I didn't have the strength to do otherwise. I didn't know how I'd sat up so abruptly when I'd first woken, because at the moment I felt so drained and weak I could barely even lift my head to look at him; though I managed it, with Jake's help. His hand trailed up my cheek to slip through my hair as he looked at me carefully, his voice soft as he spoke.

'How do you feel?' The worry in his words matched his expression, mingling strangely with his touch of happiness in his face; he was happy to see me. And I; I was so, _so_ happy to see him. Happy to see _anything,_ to be alive to see at all; a thought that was equal parts relieving and saddening.

'Cold.' My voice was faint as I replied. 'Weak.' Jake's hand on my hip tensed, and I wondered if he meant it to. His slight smile was fading now, his gaze strengthening.

'I'm just glad you're awake.' He said, and I smiled softly, letting my eyes fall closed for a beat.

'Me too.' I breathed.

'Thea.' Jake's voice was sharp, making my eyes fly open. His eyes were dark with worry, and he shifted forward slightly so that we were closer. 'You're not going to faint on me, are you?'

I paused for a moment. '…No.' His eyebrows rose slightly.

'You don't sound sure.' I sighed quietly.

'I'm not going to pass out again…for now.' He didn't look at all reassured.

'But later?' His voice was soft and concerned, and I gave him a sad look.

'We need to talk about later. And… other things.' He gave me a pained look.

'Like me finding you half-dead on the floor?' I flinched slightly, and not just because I didn't like to remember the pain; but because the word 'half-dead' was far more accurate than he realised.

'I'm sorry.' I breathed. 'I swear I don't usually faint so much or so often–' He cut off my fast spoken words with a finger over my lips.

'You don't need to apologise.' He said quietly but strongly. 'I'm just worried for you.' I gave him a grateful smile, but my sad eyes probably ruined it. Because I was sad, so sad; and he would be to, once he heard what had to say. And I didn't _want_ to make him sad; my very being balked at he thought. But I didn't really have a choice.

'Last night…' I started off quietly, by brow furrowing in concentration. Last night… well, I couldn't remember much. I had been so upset and off balance, all I could recall was fragments.

'I don't really remember what I told you.' I said. 'I wanted to tell you everything. I was going to, and I tried to, but–' Again he stopped me with finger.

'You don't need to explain that. I know you weren't all there. And I know you were upset.' His voice was hollow at the memory. 'But you told me a fair bit, and I thought by the end I knew most, if not all.' He continued quietly, but I shook my head.

'Not everything. I knew I'd forgotten something; I remember telling you I'd forgotten something.'

'I remember.' He cocked his head to the side slightly. 'And I'm guessing you know what it was now?' I gave him a sad look.

'Yes. I can't believe I didn't tell you, because I've _never_ forgotten it before; _I can't_ forget it.' If Jake hadn't been worried before, he would have been now; I could see the concern in his eyes growing by the second. I took a deep breath then, meeting his gaze.

'There's a reason I never come to La Push.' He stiffened.

'Yes. Because of _him_.' Jake practically snarled the word, but his anger faded fast when I shook my head.

'He's not the problem. There's something else.'

'The reason I couldn't get away from him, all those years ago, is because I'm not allowed on Quileute soil.' Jake looked confused, but stayed silent.

'You remember yesterday, when I tried to leave.' He frowned and shuddered, but nodded. 'Well, it was the same but opposite; I couldn't get back in. He did something – I don't know what – to make it physically impossible.'

'It was like… being stabbed in the stomach. Over and over again. I couldn't make it more than few metres. And the only way to make it stop was to cross back over the border. It was as if the land itself was against me; was poisonous to me.' Jake looked mildly horrified as he stared at me.

'But– But you're here now.' He whispered. I shook my head.

'Actually, I'm not.' I looked pointedly over to the invisible borderline, and Jake's gaze followed mine, hardening with realisation.

'That's why your sister told me to bring you here.' He breathed, sounding stunned. 'Because you were–' His voice cut off with a strangled sound, his expression looking tortured.

'But you've been in La Push for days.' He said quietly and somewhat desperately.

'Over the years, the effects have worn off somewhat. It can take days before they begin to sink in. But in the end, they always do. And unless I leave in time; well, then I won't make it out at all.'


	30. Hurt

**Chapter 30 - Hurt**

The silence that followed my words was heavy, pressing. Jake seemed lost for words as he stared at me, his eyes burning with emotion, but one I couldn't identify. The imprint seemed to have closed off; I could feel him holding back his emotions, keeping them carefully locked up.

Until, in violent wave, they suddenly burst forth.

For a moment I was frozen from the onslaught, my breath sucked from me by the overwhelming weight of it all suddenly flooding into me. At first I couldn't even figure out what the emotions were, because them all hitting me at once was crippling. But then, in a flurry of action, when the world seemed to suddenly jerk, I figured out what it was.

Pain.

Deep, burning pain. Pain and fear. Pain and anger. Pain and emptiness. It was wild and uncontrollable, so consuming I had no idea what was going on around me.

Not until I heard terrible snarling whine which tore through me, yanking back to the present.

The first thing I noticed; Jake was gone. He was no longer holding me, his delicious warmth gone, and the suddenness of it left me lost for a moment. But then my eyes were searching, searching around me; and were landing on the huge russet coloured wolf standing just metres away.

Jake.

Even without the imprint, I would have recognised him; his fur was the same colour as the red-brown flecks in his eyes. And then there was the look he was giving me; a burning, smouldering look. A look that matched the pained howl he let out as, with one last glance in my direction, he suddenly flew into a frenzy.

His movements were almost too fast to follow as he moved, violently tearing at whatever he could get hold of. His jaws easily sliced through and destroyed one small tree, even as his claws left deep gauges in the wood of another. He was tearing up the ground as well, dirt flying as he ravaged a third tree, sending it crashing to the ground with a terrible growl.

A terrible growl that screamed pain as he continued to maul the forest around us, the piercing sound of it sending me scrambling to my feet. Unsurprisingly, the dizziness from before came back in a roaring rush as I stood, making me sway as I stumbled forward. I fought it though, fought it back; because I had to stop this.

He hurt. Jake hurt. I could feel the horrible sting of it burning into me, and the pain was made only worse knowing that _I_ had caused it. _I_ had hurt him.

And it needed to stop. I had to fix it, had to help him; I couldn't stand him hurting. Not just because I could feel it to, but because it was _wrong_, so wrong. Stopping it was all I could think about as I staggered towards him, barely paying attention to all the trees and shrubs he was destroying; all I could see was him. Him, turning and snapping and lurching, pausing only to let out another growl or snarl.

Him, freezing as he spun and suddenly came face to face with me.

'Jake.' I breathed. His head was just higher than mine, his fur bristling as he shifted restlessly at the sound of his name. Instinct made me step forward; though it was more of a fall really, my head swimming and making me close my eyes for a moment as I reached for him. My hands found soft fur as I skimmed his jaw, and though he whined softly, he didn't move apart from a slight shiver.

I exhaled softly as I moved closer, leaning into him more than I should as my fingers slipped around his neck and up to his ears, making him rumble. He stepped forward then, the top of his muzzle grazing my left cheek as he snuffled into my hair. I smiled softly at the feeling, somehow managing to lean even more of my weight onto him; he was probably the only thing keeping me upright now, and I wondered if he knew.

A second later, when my knees buckled beneath me, I got my answer.

I huffed softly as I fell against him, but it was dwarfed by his sudden mournful howl, his body shifting to keep me upright. With my nose buried deep in his fur, I couldn't help but marvel at how wonderfully soft he was; though my musings were cut off by a sharp whine from Jake, accompanied with a burst of concern through the imprint.

'I'm fine.' I mumbled, rubbing his neck gently. 'I just… shouldn't have stood up.' I continued in a murmur. He grumbled unhappily, and I felt him move again, before I was gasping in surprise as we suddenly hit the ground with a soft thud. Somehow, I was still leaning into him, my legs bundled beneath me as I breathed in his woodsy smell. A smell I loved, but even it couldn't ease the pain that was still surging through the imprint.

Because while Jake was no longer taking it out in a violent frenzy, it was still burning within him. Burning fiercely, so fiercely, and it was strong and clear as he let out another pained and sad howl, one that made me whimper softly against him.

It hurt.

It hurt, but I couldn't stop it. I had stopped _him_, but I couldn't stop the pain.

And now, all I could do was wait.

* * *

At some point over the last few hours, we had shifted positions. The dizziness had faded fairly quickly as I leant into Jake, but I still didn't quite remember when exactly I'd sat up and started stroking him. I had a feeling it was quite a while ago, because my legs seemed frozen in their crossed position, but it certainly didn't feel like that long. It was just so easy to get lost in the motion of running my hands over him; my fingers slipping through his wonderfully soft fur, tracing small circles and skimming against his skin. Over and over again, moving back and forth, back and forth; repetition, repetition. I didn't have to think; which was probably why at first, I didn't notice he had moved. It was only once my hands started groping at thin air, not finding the pelt I had been so absorbed with stroking, that realisation struck.

For a moment, all I could do was stare; stare blankly where he had been just seconds ago, trying to figure out how and when he'd disappeared. But then he was suddenly all around me, nudging my shoulder gently with his nose, and when I turned to look at him, I found his eyes glittering with a silent question.

'I'm okay.' I murmured, lifting my hand to lightly graze my fingers along his muzzle. Jake made a contented noise that sounded almost like a purr, settling down next to me with a soft huff. I let my hand drift to his ear, scratching softly, eliciting another purr, but this time I noticed the sadness that was in his eyes as he stared into the trees around us. It made me pause for a moment, and Jake's eyes flicked back to mine at the sudden stop.

'What about you?' I asked slowly, watching him closely. The hurt I had been feeling through the imprint before seemed to have disappeared, and while at first I thought it had gone, his eyes said differently. It made me wonder if he was holding his emotions back; and why. Yet Jake didn't seem to know what I was asking about, because he whined softly, sounding confused.

'You were upset before. Are you better now?' His tail twitched, but that was the only movement he made. He was silent as he looked at me, his eyes showing indecision; that was all the answer I needed. I gave him a sympathetic look, starting to scratch his ear again.

'I'm sorry.' I said quietly. He turned to look at me then, and if I wasn't mistaken, he seemed to be frowning; it was difficult to tell expressions on a wolf. But he was standing up now, growling unhappily as he shook his head, nudging me softly in the process. It was clear my words had upset him; if only I knew _why_. All I could do was stare at him as he paced back and forth in front of me, occasionally glancing in my direction; but after a minute of watching him, I finally caved in to curiosity.

'Jake?' He paused at his name, but only for a moment; then he was back to pacing, faster now as he whined unhappily. And it was then that I felt it again; his emotions trickling back through the imprint, so faint I almost missed them. But while they were faint, they _were_ there; and were easy to recognise.

Sadness. Guilt. Confusion. Annoyance. Pain.

Some of which weren't at all surprising; sadness and pain had been there for a while. And confusion; I supposed there was plenty for him to be confused about. But the other two; those, I couldn't figure out.

Especially when he suddenly stopped right in front of me, dropped to the floor, and with a sad and quiet howl, rested his head in my lap. Instinctively, my hands reached forward to once again scratch at his ears; I knew he liked it. But his miserable look didn't soften, his eyes just as sad as ever as I spoke.

'What's wrong?' I asked. He shook his head slightly, letting out a low whine. I frowned a tad at his lack of response; I couldn't help but worry about whatever was going through his mind, and making him act so very strangely. I repeated the question, quieter now.

'Tell me? Please?'

* * *

_Jake's POV_

'Tell me? Please?' Her voice was soft, so soft, even with an edge of worry; worry for _me_. She was worried for _me_. A fresh round of guilt swept through me.

She shouldn't be worried for me; I did not need to be worried about. I was fine. _I _had not been passed out on the floor this morning. _I _was not going to di–

_No. _No no no no no.

She was not going to die she was not going to die she was not going to die–

Another sad whine escaped me. My fault. This was all my fault. She would not be – I choked on the word – dying, if not for me. She would be able to leave. She would leave, and she wouldn't have to die.

If only the imprint would let her. But we were too close now, too close for her to leave, for either of us to travel far from the other. And it should have been a blessing; yesterday, I had been glad to know that she would stay; glad to know I wasn't going to lose her. But that was _before_; before I knew her secret, before I knew just how _wrong_ I really was.

Because while she was going to stay, I was pretty sure I _was_ going to lose her. And I didn't _want_ to lose her; I didn't know if I could _stand_ to lose her. I didn't know how to go back to _not_ having her, not knowing her and feeling her; I didn't think it was possible.

And yet I had terrible feeling that all too soon I was going to find out. Because even though the imprint absolutely, steadfast _refused_ to accept even the thought of Thea dying, my entire being balking at the merest idea, there was a small part of my mind that was thinking over what Thea had said; and was miserably curling up into a ball, because like her, I just couldn't see a way out of this.

If she stayed in La Push, she would die. If she tried to leave La Push, she would die. And if I didn't keep a close eye on her, there was a chance that she would die at the hand of a rogue shapeshifter; as if the first two weren't more than enough to end up with Thea dead. And no matter how many different ways I looked at it, no matter how I tried to find a way to save her, I just couldn't find a way.

I couldn't find a way to save her.


	31. Blood

**Chapter 31 - Blood**

_Jake's POV_

I couldn't find a way to save her.

And it _hurt_. I couldn't deal with it, couldn't handle knowing it all. It was too much, an overload as I tried and failed to not believe it; to find a way to keep her alive. At first I had been consumed by it; I didn't know what I was doing, didn't have any control. Until suddenly, _she_ was there, stopping me in my tracks with her light touch. And the contact had been good, so good; enough to jerk at least part of me back into sanity. But even though she was sitting next to me, leaning into me, it didn't stop the pain.

Pain made even worse by knowing that she could feel it to. _She_ was hurting because of me. It went against the imprint so completely that eventually, I managed to figure out how to force it down; how to hide the pain that came from knowing I was going to lose her. But it wasn't just pain I was hiding; it was guilt; guilt and annoyance.

Guilt, because she was the one dying, not me, and yet _I _was the one that couldn't deal with it. Guilt, because she was hurting now; and it was my fault. And from that came annoyance – annoyance at myself – because it took hours of trying to finally repress my emotions. It shouldn't have been so hard; it should have been easy to stop, because I was hurting her, and that I should not, _could not_ do. But it took too much time, way too much time; though once I managed to get my feelings locked up from the bond, it did at least seem to work.

I had felt it in her; a relief, her body relaxing against mine. I had thought that I had successfully hid the fact that I was still slowly dying from the knowledge; but I had been wrong. She had seen right through me; already she knew me to well. After just five days, all she had to do was look at me to figure me out. Yet I still might have been able to keep it together, if not for those two words.

I'm sorry.

They had sent me reeling again, pacing as my emotions boiled over, because this was all wrong. _She_ was sorry. She was dying, and yet _she_ was the calm one, apologising to _me_. Apologising because her dying had upset _me_. It was all back to front. I should be comforting her, not the other way around. She should be upset, not me.

And yet she was the one asking me what was wrong, and I was the one that couldn't bring myself to answer. Even with my head in her lap, her smell filling me with every breath, I couldn't calm down; couldn't think, couldn't squash my feelings down again. Not until she began to speak.

'You know, I don't usually like red.' Thea said with a soft smile, looking down at me. 'I like your red though.' She continued, her hand slipping through my fur. I wondered if she knew how damn _good_ that felt; if I hadn't been so troubled, I would have been rumbling and shivering at the sensation.

'Russet. It's beautiful. And it suits you.' Despite my distress, satisfaction flooded through me; knowing she liked my wolf made me rumble in happiness. But at the same time, I couldn't help but be a little confused; she had said she didn't like red, and yet unless I was seeing things, she was wearing a red shirt this very moment. I shifted forward and let my teeth nip at the fabric softly, whining quietly in confusion. Her eyebrows crinkled for a moment before she seemed to understand, frowning.

'I know, I'm wearing red now. But I wasn't really thinking this morning.' I made an unhappy noise at that, knowing what she was referring to; an image of her sprawled in the corridor flashed in my mind. I shook my head slightly to clear it, nipping at her shirt again; she hadn't said _why_ she didn't like red, and her frown had made me a mixture of curious and wary. Yet this time, she didn't pick up on what I was asking, giving me a confused look.

'I don't know what that means.' She said, and I grazed my teeth along her shirt a third time. 'Are you saying you like red?' Thea guessed uncertainly, and I shook my head.

'You don't like red?' She guessed again, but I shook my head a second time. She paused for a minute, thinking. 'I don't like red?' She ventured, and I nodded, yipping softly. She thought for another few moments, before her eyes suddenly widened with realisation.

'Oh. You want to know why?' She asked softly, sounding strangely hesitant. I nodded slowly, watching her carefully; I felt a sliver of dread through the imprint, and it made me tense. She was silent again now, and for a second, I thought she might not answer. But she sighed then, giving me a sad look before answering quietly.

'I don't like it because it reminds me of blood.'

* * *

_Thea's POV_

Pain.

Terrible pain. It was all I could feel, all I could think about. It was everything, all around me, consuming me.

And it _hurt_. It hurt so, so badly, I didn't know how I was still alive. I didn't know how I was still awake, because it seemed just moments ago I'd been sinking into a wonderful blackness where I couldn't feel _anything_.

But then, with a burning flash, I was on fire. Fiery pain, burning pain, red hot pinpoints in my back, in my side, in my shoulder. It seemed to be growing by the second, and even though at first I was crippled by it, I couldn't stay still any longer. I could feel myself shaking, heaving as the pain rolled through me and over me, relentless in its intensity. It was just so _strong_; strong enough to force my eyes wide open from the agony.

Red. At first, that was all I could see. A terrible, sickening bright red that was just _everywhere_. But I was blinking now, blinking frantically as I shivered almost violently, and there was more than just red now. I could see myself; my arm, smeared with red. My hands, thickly coated with a darker red. My shirt, soaked and heavy with the darkest red of all.

Different reds, but yet they were the same.

They were all blood. _My_ blood. And god, there was so _much_ of it; it seemed impossible that I could have any left in me. And yet I knew that there was; I curled in on myself as a new burst of pain assaulted me, and now I could see the blood that was pouring out of my side, hot trails of it dripping from my waist down to my hip.

_So much blood._

It was as if I'd been dipped in it; my back, my front, my arms; even my legs were covered with spidery webbed trails from the many wounds it was spilling out of. And I knew, even as fresh agony hit me and forcing me to crumple on the ground, that there was _too_ much of it. No one, _no one_ could survive this. I should be dead. And if not dead very close to it; at the very least I should be out cold.

And yet somehow, I was awake. I had known, when I felt myself slipping away, that I wouldn't be coming back again. If I didn't bleed to death, _he_ would kill me–

With a sudden gasp I was jerking upwards, eyes wide with fear and surprise.

_Leon_. He was there, just as I had thought; watching me with a sickening smile, his eyes maliciously alight as my gaze met his. His grin widened as he looked at me, the blood coated knife he had been playing with in his hands dropping to the ground.

'Finally.'

One word. It was _one word_. But it struck such terror into me I thought that perhaps my heart might give out because of it.

_No._

I shouldn't have woken up. _I should not have woken up_. I _should_ have died; I had more than injuries to do so. It didn't make sense for me to be awake; it shouldn't be possible.

'You took longer than I thought to wake up again; for a moment I thought I'd lost you.' He said wickedly, cruel anticipation clear in his voice.

_No._

This was _him_. He had done this, done _something_; he was why I was awake.

And now, more than ever, I wished I wasn't. It would have been better, _far_ better to have died by now; because that _grin_, oh god, his grin; I felt my heart clench as fear overwhelmed me.

He was going to _hurt_ me.

He was going to hurt me, and he wasn't going to _stop_.

* * *

_Jake's POV_

The moment the words were out of her mouth, my tortured and mournful howl was tearing through the air, loud and sharp as I buried deeper into her lap. Damn it, why did I have to ask her that? It would have been better, better for both of us, if I hadn't. Because her words, her answer; the second I heard it, I wanted to forget it.

It reminds me of blood.

That was what she had said. And now blood was all I could think about; _her_ blood. Her blood, spilling out of her from those four horrifying gashes on her stomach. Those scars; god, I would not ever get those out of my mind. And then there was what she had said last night about the knife; about being stabbed.

More than once. More than once, she had said, in a voice so quiet I had almost missed it. And now I was imagining the knife as the cause of the blood, her body covered with stab wounds, more and more of them appearing by the second. It was all I could do to hold back another howl as I imagined it, the scene taking over my mind; until a sharp gasp tore me away.

It was Thea who had brought me back, her sharp inhale gaining my attention. And it was only then, only as I looked at her and shoved my own emotions and thoughts away, that I figured something out.

I wasn't the only one imagining things.

Her eyes were glazed, her skin a shade too pale as she sat there, frozen. And now that I was paying more attention, I marvelled that I hadn't immediately noticed how stricken she was; I could feel through the imprint an overload of fear, and a sharp sense of hurt. The combination of the two launched me to my feet, my muzzle nudging her shoulder to try and snap her out of it.

She didn't even blink.

I nudged her again, whining softly with sadness; I had to bring her back. But even though I was bumping her harder now, pushing her against her shoulder, her knee, her cheek, her back, she still didn't move. It wasn't until I pushed her perhaps a little too forcefully, sending her topping backwards onto the ground with a soft thump, that I finally got a reaction.

She huffed softly at the impact, her eyes widening with surprise. In less than second I was standing over her, peering down at her with concern; I probably should have been more careful, but worry had made me act without thinking. But she was looking up at me now, her expression a mix of surprise, amusement and confusion, though she settled on the latter as she spoke quietly.

'Jake, what are you doing?' She asked, and I huffed happily, nuzzling her on the cheek with my nose. Thea made confused sound as I buried into her hair, inhaling her scent with a contented whine; I loved her smell. Sweet and flowery and foresty and _her_; my wolf side couldn't get enough of it. And she was smiling now, just the slightest touch; that made it even better. The fear and hurt was gone, thank god, and I couldn't stop my tail from wagging happily as I looked at her.

I had her back.

I had her back, but even as I continued to brush against her, inhaling her scent, it wasn't enough. I needed _more_ of her; to hold her, to talk to her. But it went against almost every instinct to leave her and phase back; because after today, I knew it wasn't safe to _ever_ leave her alone. Still, I pushed back my hesitance as I backed away; it would take only seconds. Seconds, and then I would be back next to her.

Back next to her, and _staying_ there.


	32. Together

**Chapter 32 - Together**

_Thea's POV_

Jake was _everywhere_.

I'd been jerked from my nightmarish memory with a huff, to discover with surprise that I was on the ground. And while I'd been blinking with shock, I'd had barely a second to glimpse the wall of trees around me before _he_ was there. Jake. His wolf towering over me, blocking out everything except his wonderfully coloured russet fur. And it probably should have been intimidating, because he was huge, dwarfing me in comparison, but instead it was comforting. Jake himself was comforting, but this position – him over him me, hiding me – was even better.

It was safe. Safe and warm and soft, because he was brushing against me now, his nose and jaw grazing against mine as he sniffed me, making a happy sound as he did so. I couldn't help but smile at the action; the touch and affection was a welcome contrast to the horrifying scene that had been playing out in my mind, so much so that it didn't take long for the memory to slip from my mind.

But unfortunately, it wasn't the only thing to disappear.

Because after one last snuffle in my ear, Jake was suddenly gone.

I sat up in a rush with a sad and surprised gasp, my eyes finding him almost at the tree line. Even as I watched, he was still backing away; and before I could open my mouth to ask what he was doing, he was turning and slipping into the bushes.

And the moment he did, I felt suddenly and immeasurably sad. Which was stupid, _so_ stupid, because I could feel him just 30 metres away; it barely even counted as him being gone. But regardless, I couldn't help but feel as if I'd lost part of him. Part of him, part of me; it had been just seconds, but already I needed him back here.

I needed _him_.

I shouldn't, not this badly, but I did. After this morning, after today, with everything that was happening or going to happen; it was too much. I needed something, at least, to help keep me together, and that was Jake. I didn't know when it had become him; when I'd started needing him just to stay in control. Perhaps it had always been him.

All I knew as I sat there was how lost I felt _without_ him.

And like clockwork, it was in exactly that moment that Jake reappeared from the trees. He was human now, which must have been the reason he left in the first place; a thought that should have occurred to me, but his sudden departure had left me far to lost to think properly. He was back now though; back and walking towards me, wearing only jeans and leaving plenty of his wonderfully tanned skin for me to see. I could see his muscles moving as he stepped, his gorgeous chest and arms mesmerizing; but it was his face that I focused on.

Because his expression said that he felt just as lost as I did.

In less than a second I was scrambling to my feet and heading towards him. The vertigo from before returned almost instantly, but it was bearable; and worth it. Worth it, because after just three short steps, Jake was back. He was pulling me close, his strong arms tightening around me as my own arms slipped around his waist. His chin easily rested on the top of my head as I leant into his chest, the immediate warmth making me hum softly as I basked in his embrace.

Hugging Jake was so _good_. So good that for a while, we both just stood there, soaking each other in. I could feel him breathing, his chest moving ever so slightly as he did, and without meaning to, I found my own breaths synchronising with his; until I spoke quietly, breaking the pattern.

'I can't remember the last time we did this.' I murmured against him with a sigh. 'The last two days have been…' I trailed off, struggling to find the right word.

'Hard.' Jake supplied with a rumble, and I felt his grip on me tighten. I hummed in agreement. I'd spent way too much time unconscious. And the times I _had_ been awake; well, I hadn't been in control at all. I'd been so upset; and if not upset, so dazed I didn't know what was going around me. Now though; now, I was finally better.

Almost.

'It feels like forever since I've been awake and normal.' I said quietly, and he made a noise in affirmation.

'It's been too long.' He agreed. 'But thankfully, you're better now.' He continued, and I could hear the relief in his voice. But then he suddenly stiffened, and I tilted my head upwards to see him looking down at me with worry.

'You _are_ better, aren't you? Before you were–' I cut him off with a finger over his mouth.

'I'm fine. I don't think I could walk very far, or stand up for too long, but otherwise, I'm perfectly alright.' Jake didn't look very reassured. 'And before you force me to the ground, I'm not about to collapse while you're holding me, so relax.' He grinned then.

'You knew what I was thinking.' He said with amusement, and I smiled. But then I was suddenly yelping, because I'd been unexpectedly jerked and pulled to the ground, and before I even had time to process that I was falling I was landing on top of Jake with a gasp. Still reeling with surprise, I realised I'd ended up sitting on him, straddling his lap as he sat facing me, his face just inches from mine. Yet even though we'd been just as close moments before when he'd embraced me, this was so much _more_.

The intensity left me breathless, his gaze fierce as he stared at me. His hands had moved to my waist, my own braced on his shoulders and chest; his beautifully muscled, golden skinned chest, so stunning that for a moment I couldn't take my eyes of it. But I was looking at him again now; his gorgeous brown eyes freezing me in position. I was hyperaware of him beneath me; his hard body, his skin was burning hot.

Though that heat was nothing compared to how searing his lips were when they found my own.

It was like he was breathing his heat into me, because every part of me felt like it was on fire. Molten fire, because I could feel myself melting against him from the wonderful overload of sensations that were thrumming through my body. There was one thing that stood out though; him. His hand in my hair and pulling me into him, as he kissed me harder and deeper, his mouth not leaving mine even as I gasped from how _good_ he felt. His lips were alternating between strong and soft, strong and soft, in a heavenly mix that filled me with pleasure.

Pleasure that lingered, even when we broke apart, my lips tingling and heart thrumming as I smiled softly. Jake was smiling too, his hand lingering on my neck as he spoke quietly.

'I'm really glad you're better again.' He murmured. I smiled wider; I was glad to be better too, and Jake's happiness made it that much sweeter; especially if he was going to kiss me like _that_ every time.

'Did I surprise you too much?' He asked, his eyes were glimmering with happiness. He didn't seem very worried about my answer; his tone was more amused than uncertain.

I shook my head. 'It was a nice surprise.' I replied, and he grinned wider.

'Good.' He said. He paused for a moment, before speaking again. 'Even though you were right, I still feel better with you on the ground.' I laughed quietly at that.

'You know I wouldn't have fallen.' I said.

'I know. I wouldn't have let you.' I hummed my agreement. He tilted his head to the side slightly, giving me a curious look.

'You trust me.' It wasn't quite a question, and he seemed pleased to say it. I nodded, smiling again, and he smiled back.

'I've always trusted you.' I said softly, and now he was the one chuckling.

'I don't think that's true. If I remember correctly, you tried to run away from me when we first met.' I thought it over with a smile.

'Okay then. I suppose that for the first 10 seconds, I kind of thought that you were going to kill me.' Jake frowned at that, and made an unhappy sound. 'But after that, I trusted you.' He grinned again then.

'After I imprinted on you.' He seemed happy to say the words.

'After you imprinted on me.' I confirmed, also smiling. I was still smiling when Jake's lips pressed against mine, softly and sweetly kissing me as I made a contented hum. It was a short kiss, and so much calmer and slower than before, yet still just as good. Even when we separated Jake was still close, his nose burying into the top of my hair as he smelled me.

'You smell nice.' He breathed in a contented sigh. It drew my attention to _his_ smell; a wonderful mix of forest and wolf and something that was just _him_. 'You taste nice too.' He added, and his words made me laugh softly.

'Is that the wolf talking?' I asked, and he shrugged.

'Maybe. The wolf and I are pretty blended, so it's probably more the imprint.' He smiled then. 'Or maybe it's just you.' I smiled back at him.

'I think it's both.' I said speculatively, and Jake pulled back to give me a questioning look. 'The imprint doesn't make a connection out of nothing, Jake; that would be stupid. And weird. It more enhances. Without it, we still would have liked each other; it just would have been… less.' He thought that over for a few moments.

'I suppose that makes sense. But I don't think I would have wanted to not imprint.' He said, and I couldn't help but feel a little relieved; I liked the imprint, and it was good to know he did too. But his next sentence quickly dimmed my happiness.

'Though the imprint isn't too happy with me right now.' He said glumly. For a moment, all I could do was stare at him in confusion.

'Sorry?' I eventually managed to ask.

'It's worried about you. And the last two days have really set it on edge. Especially after this morning, because it didn't want me to leave, but I did anyway.' He sounded particularly miserable in the last part of his sentence.

'Now, all it wants to do is lock you away somewhere and watch you 24/7.' He finished softly, and I wondered if he knew that his hands on my waist were tightening their grip. My guess was no; he seemed preoccupied, consumed by his thoughts.

Perhaps he was thinking about what he'd just told me; locking me away somewhere and not letting me out of his sight. It sounded kind of nice, to be honest; I would get to spend more time with him. Time that I not just wanted, but _needed_; I needed him to stay with me. With death hovering over me in a rapidly descending and overwhelming cloud, I needed him badly; to distract me, to keep me together, to be close, and to just be _him_.

And it was need that drove me to lean into him more, my head pressing into the crook of his neck and shoulder as I replied.

'You know, that doesn't sound too bad.' I murmured. 'I like having you around.' I felt a mixture of doubt and pleasure though the imprint in reaction to my words.

'I like having you around too. But do you really want me to lock you up somewhere?'

'Maybe not; staying here sounds like a better idea.'


	33. Reassuring

**Chapter 33 - Reassuring**

True to my suggestion, we did in fact stay right where we were for the rest of the day. There really wasn't that much day left after everything that had happened, but that wasn't important; long after darkness had fallen, we were both still on the ground, talking away. And not just talking, but smiling and laughing and flirting too.

It was _wonderful_.

Hours and hours had passed, yet to me, it could have been just moments. Time just didn't seem important with Jake; I was too focused on him, consumed by him, to pay attention to anything else. All that seemed to matter was him lying beside me on the ground; him, facing me and grinning in the darkness.

But the best part was yet to come. Because as it grew later and later, both of us growing sleepy and tired, his arm slipped around my waist, and pulled me close. So wonderfully close, my back pressed firmly against his chest, his warmth instantly filling me. And for a little while longer, we kept talking; his smooth voice in my ear, murmuring to me.

But all too soon, I was drifting off; Jake's voice still deep and rumbling as I fell asleep.

* * *

The smell of the forest was the first thing I registered when I woke. It was so sweet and rich, the scent of wood and nature flooding my lungs and making me sigh happily.

I loved the smell of La Push.

There was another smell too, one that took a few moments to distinguish from the surrounding woods; the smell of wolf and man and Jake. His scent was becoming so familiar now; familiar and calming. And god, it was so _good_; I could breathe it in for hours on end, and still love it. Part of me wanted to roll over so I could bury my face in his chest and breathe it in more strongly, but I resisted the temptation. His arm was like a steel bar around my waist; I doubted I'd be able to move anyway. Not without waking him, and that I didn't want to do; not yet.

I was too busy enjoying the feeling of him being curled around me. I was so small compared to him, he easily surrounded my body; even his arm around my stomach seemed large, the defined muscles a glaring indicator of his strength. Strength, that like his size, far surpassed my own. Which was strange for me; I was used to being strong.

It probably didn't look like it, but my strength far exceeded a humans. And though I didn't really need to use it, it was still there; a guarantee that I could hold my own in a dangerous situation. Now though; now, I was not strong. Not with the pack, and definitely not with Jake. And it should have been disconcerting; after so many years of knowing I could handle myself, to suddenly be the weak one.

Instead, I found myself revelling in it. Revelling in the fact that I trusted Jake, and was therefore not at all bothered by how easily he could overpower me if he wanted. Revelling in how wonderful and refreshing it was to have him so strong behind me, over me, _protecting me_. It had been so long, too long. Too long since I'd had someone who could protect me, who wanted to protect me; and who I would let protect me.

But now I did have someone; I had Jake. Warm, wonderful Jake, who was moving against me, pulling me closer as his face found my neck, nosing through my hair to graze against my skin. I could feel his lips skimming along my pulse point, and I couldn't help but make a contented noise; which made him smile at the sound. A soft smile, just as soft as the movement of his lips as he spoke.

'Good morning.' He rumbled quietly in my ear, his satisfied voice making me grin.

'Morning.' I replied back softly with a sigh, feeling him bury deeper into my neck. His nose and mouth ghosting over the skin made me shiver; though not as much as the hand on my my waist, which had started to trace soft patterns that were more than bit distracting.

'What are you doing?' I asked with a mixture of confusion and pleasure, and he paused for a moment.

'Making sure you're still here.' He said quietly, resuming his movements. I felt him breathe against my neck, inhaling deeply before he spoke again.

'How do you feel?' Jake asked, his tone full hesitance and sadness.

'Good. Much better than yesterday.' I said with relief, and I felt him echo the emotion through the imprint.

'I'm glad.' He replied, and I felt his body behind me relax; as well as the imprint. I hadn't noticed until it was gone, but Jake had been worried; far more than I'd known. It made me snuggle closer to him, and he growled softly in contentment, his arm around me tightening.

'You're nice to wake up to.' He murmured happily, and I hummed my agreement.

'So are you.' I felt him grin. 'But as nice as this is, we should probably get going.' He made a sad noise at my words, but was still smiling against my neck.

'Go where?'

'To my house. So I can let my sister know I'm still alive.' Another sad sound rumbled from his chest, before he sighed against me.

'Does that mean I have to let go of you?' He mumbled, his dejected tone showing he already knew the answer. I couldn't blame him though; I shared his reluctance, because lying against him like this was so incredibly good. But he knew, and I knew, that we had to leave eventually; no matter how much we might want to stay.

And so I replied, albeit sadly, 'Yes.' Then I smiled softly. 'But only temporarily.'

I felt another smile from Jake against my neck. 'I guess I can live with that.'

And then he was pulling me upwards, making me gasp softly as I found myself suddenly sitting upright. His chest was still amazingly warm behind me, which I was glad for as I leaned back against him; I just needed one more moment to feel him. One more moment, before with a resigned sigh, I pulled away, pushing off the ground and finding my feet.

My body protested the motion; after a whole night spent in one position – one heavenly position – my muscles were tight and unwilling to move. Yet all it took was a quick rotating of my neck and shoulders, and with a satisfying crack, relief flooded through me. Smiling softly, I turned to face Jake; only to find myself pausing at the sight of him still on the ground, watching me with a strange look. A look that disappeared almost instantly as he easily stood, suddenly towering over me once more.

'You know for a moment there, I was actually taller than you.' I said, and he grinned.

'Did you want to be taller than me?' He asked, and my face twisted as I frowned.

'No, definitely not. That would be weird.'

'Good. I like you smaller than me.' He replied with a smile; a smile that grew as he looked at me, stepping forward. 'You have leaves in your hair.' He said with a chuckle, his hands snapping forward to slip through the wavy strands.

'Really?' I said with a frown, raising a hand to check; only to find it pushed away by Jake's much larger and stronger one. I raised my eyebrows at him, and he just grinned.

'Don't rid me of an excuse to play with it.' He rumbled wistfully, and I couldn't help but laugh softly; I didn't quite understand his fascination with my hair, though I had to say I kind of liked it. His fingers grazing my forehead and my shoulders as they twirled through golden brown waves; it was both relaxing and enjoyable. Especially when, with one last stroke, he suddenly leaned forward to softly kiss me on the forehead.

'Done now.' He said happily. I had to smile at his satisfaction as he pulled back, taking my hand in his in the process. 'So are we going?' He asked, and I gave him an amused look.

'You tell me.' He laughed, turning and pulling me with him.

'Come on.' He said with a grin, starting towards the trees.

* * *

'Sera?' I called out as Jake and I cleared the steps and reached the front door. 'Ser, it's me.' Inside, I heard her gasp. Then, fast footfalls as she rushed to the front door, flinging it open wide with a shriek.

'Oh my god, Thea!' She cried, throwing her arms around my neck as she lurched forward. Pulling my hand from Jake's, I slipped my arms around her waist, feeling her shaking as I hugged her. Even as she leaned into me she began to sob. 'I thought you were dead!' She choked out. Guilt and sadness immediately struck me.

'Oh Ser.' I said softly, burying my face in her hair. 'I'm so sorry.' She sobbed again.

'I thought I'd never see you again.' She whispered with devastation, clutching me tighter, and I made a sad noise in response. With difficulty, I managed to pull back enough to glimpse her tear streaked face, and my frown deepened; I should have come sooner. I should have known how worried she would be, and done something; something to let her know I was still alive.

But it was too late now. Now, all I could was try and make it up to her.

'Let's go inside.' I murmured softly, turning her around and steering her down the hallway. I kept my arm around her waist, since she didn't look as if she could manage without it; and by the way she was leaning on me, I was sure my guess was right. But as easy as it was to guide her down the hallway, holding her meant I couldn't ask Jake to follow me; though thankfully, I didn't have to. I could feel him just behind me as we reached the kitchen, and as I sat Sera on one of the bench stools.

'Stay here.' I said softly. 'You need to calm down before I can explain everything.' She nodded, still shaking as she rested her elbows on the bench. Moving away, I caught sight of Jake watching me as he leant against the kitchen cupboards; his eyes were dark, his expression confused and thoughtful as he stared. I shot him a questioning look, but he just shook his head; apparently, I wasn't going to get an explanation. Which didn't sit well, because he was closed off through the imprint, and that made me worry, but with a lingering look, I moved passed him; I would look after Sera first.

Sera, who seemed stunned as she watched me; as if she couldn't quite believe I was there. It wasn't until I pressed a hot drink into her hand that she finally spoke, her words no louder than whisper.

'Is it true? Can you really not leave?' I sighed before nodding, and she gave me a scared look. 'What are you going to do?' She asked shakily. I closed my eyes for a moment, shaking my head slightly as I shoved down my emotions.

'I don't know.' I breathed. Her gaze turned to more sad than scared.

'You should never have come here.' She said miserably. I gave her an understanding but unrepentant look.

'No. I had to come back.'

'But if you hadn't–'

'It would have happened eventually.' I took her hand in mine and squeezed it, giving her a solemn look. 'I knew what I was walking into; I knew the risks.' She sighed heavily, her eyes filling with tears.

'I just wish you had longer.' I smiled sadly.

'Me too.' Sucking in deep, shuddering breath, I changed the topic. 'Where's Ani? I haven't seen her in days.'

'She's at the day care–' She cut off suddenly, her eyes widening. 'Oh my god! I forgot to get her!' She launched from her seat in a rush, grabbing for the keys on the counter in a panic.

'I can't believe it! And you've only just got here and now I'm leaving! Oh, she's probably so scared! I'm sorry, I have to–' I grabbed her by the shoulders gently, unable to hide my slight amusement as she stopped midsentence.

'Sera, breathe. It's fine. Now, go get her.' She did as I said, inhaling deeply before giving me a grateful smile.

'Thank you.' She said softly, kissing me on the cheek lightly; and then she was gone, hurrying down the hallway. I watched her disappear, smiling despite myself; I'd forgotten how wonderful Sera's rambling could be, even when she was panicking. It wasn't until I heard the car engine rumble to life outside that I finally turned around; unsurprised to see Jake looking just as sad and preoccupied as before. My smile turned sad.

'Are you going to tell me what's bothering you so much?' I asked softly, walking over to him and pausing just a foot away. He stared at me for a moment, his eyes filled with indecision.

'I don't know if I should.' He said hesitantly. I tilted my head to the side in a silent question as I gave him a curious look.

'Now I _really_ want to know.' I replied quietly, and I couldn't quite hide the worry from my voice. He frowned, sighing deeply, before suddenly stepping forwards and taking my hands in his. But even though he was only an inch away now, he was still stepping, and I found myself forced to retreat until I was suddenly backed into the kitchen counter behind me. He had me pinned against it, his body almost flush with mine as he towered over me.

'How do you do it?' He asked softly, his gaze fierce as he looked down at me. 'How do you stay so _calm_?' He continued, anger slipping into his voice and twisting his words.

'Your sister was freaking out because she was so scared for you, and it's all I can do to not destroy everything I can get my hands on, but you…' He shook his head with bewilderment. 'You seem so completely in control; so fine with it all. And I _know_ that you're not, not really, because I can feel just how much of your emotions you're hiding and pushing down. But you still manage it, and _I can't figure out how_.' His hands released mine, gripping the counter behind me instead.

'_You're_ the one that all this is happening to, that's clinging to life.' He struggled to say the words. 'And yet you're comforting Sera and me, and even now you're worried about what I'm thinking, when you should be worried about _you_. Which makes me so _angry_ with myself, because if you can, I should be able to, but I just _can't_.'

'I can't calm down. _And I can't watch you die._'


	34. Distractions

**Chapter 34 - Distractions**

At first, all I could do was stare at him, his last sentence ringing in my head.

_I can't watch you die_.

The words were packed full of anger and hurt and desperation; the same emotions which were surging into me through the imprint, leaving me speechless and stunned as I looked up at him.

_I can't watch you die_.

I didn't know what to say. What was there to say, after that? I didn't want to lie; to lie and tell him that he wouldn't have to, because we both knew it wasn't true. But what did that leave?

'Thea, _say something_.' He urged, his voice screaming how barely controlled his anger was right now. His eyes were burning with it, and his fingers were clenching the counter behind me all his strength; though I knew it wouldn't be enough. He _needed_ to calm down; and the only way was to distract him.

And so I let my hands settle on top of his, feeling his fingers twitch at the contact.

'If you don't let go of the counter, you're going to break it.' I said softly. He didn't move; he was too busy shooting me a look of surprise and exasperation, his eyes still dark with rage. Moving slowly, I tried to slip my fingers beneath his to pry his grip; and with a shuddering sigh, he released his hold, his hands now enveloping mine.

'Say something _else_.' He asked, his tone almost pleading as his restraint broke and a growl rolled through him.

'The reason I can be calm is because I keep distracting myself; by focusing on you. Which is easiest when I'm worrying about you, because it means I can't worry about me.'

'But why are you worrying about me to begin with?' Jake asked with confusion and frustration, and I almost smiled at how bewildered he seemed.

'Yesterday, after I explained everything to you; I could see, I could _feel_ how upset you were. And it felt so terrible, all I wanted to do was make it stop, but I didn't know _how_. That was why I was worried. And when I was worried, I couldn't even think about anything else; the imprint completely overrode me. Which was good, I guess; except you were _hurting_.' The last word was barely a whisper.

'But after that, things were better. You holding me and talking to me; that was a good distraction.' I said, smiling softly, worming one of my hands from his grasp so that I could run it through his hair.

'Well, you must have more control than me, because no matter what I do, _I just can't stop thinking about it._ And while I'd kill to forget all about it by distracting myself with you, every time I look at–'

Gripping his hair, I pulled his head down and gently pressed my lips to his. He was forced to stop midsentence as I swallowed his words, his lips parting in surprise against mine as his body froze. I slipped my other hand from his, trailing it up the bare skin of his chest before grabbing onto his neck.

And then, with a soft groan, he was kissing me back.

Even though I was already trapped against the counter, he was pushing me back hard against it, his lips crashing against mine as his right hand knotted in my hair. His other arm was hooking tightly around my waist, pulling me flush against him as he kissed me, and kissed me _hard_.

And god, it was so _good_.

He was everywhere, the only thing I could even hope to think about, the only thing that I cared about. But still, I needed more.

And apparently, so did he. Because Jake wasn't stopping – quite the opposite – and was only kissing me deeper as I pulled him down further; further and closer. I didn't know how he could be closer, but he was, his heat growing in intensity with every second that passed, and every kiss we shared. Fiery, burning kisses that were consuming me, searing through me and overloading my body with ecstasy.

There could be nothing better this. Nothing better as his hands suddenly vanished, only to reappear seconds later as they gripped my thighs, his mouth not leaving mine as he hiked me upwards. It was effortless to wrap my legs around him, gripping his hips as his lips continued to move against mine, different now that our faces were level.

Different, but still mind-numbing bliss.

Mind-numbing, because I hadn't even noticed that I was on the counter now, my knees still holding on to his sides as Jake's now free hands once again found my hair and waist. His fingers were drawing soft, hot circles through my shirt, pressing into my ribs, until suddenly his hand was slipping _under_ my top. I gasped at the heat, pulling him closer as his hand drifted over my bare skin to splay across my back, my body shivering at the sensation.

Until, what seemed just seconds later – but was probably far longer – we finally broke apart. Apart being a loose term, because while our lips were no longer touching, the rest of us most certainly was; I was still wrapped around him, his forehead leaning against mine as I smiled up at him.

'Did it work?' I asked breathlessly, and he laughed quietly.

'God yes.' He breathed, one of his hands cupping my cheek as his lips brushed mine in the softest of kisses. 'Thank you.' He whispered. I grinned.

'I'm glad you're happy again.' I said, letting my hands fall from his hair to his shoulders as he pulled back; just in time to hear his stomach rumble. I laughed at the sheepish look on his face.

'You're hungry.' I said with a grin. 'Good.' He raised his eyebrows.

'Why is that good?'

'Because I am too. I'll cook for you.' Now he was the one grinning, holding onto my waist as I slid off the counter.

'What are we having?' He asked with interest, and I laughed again at his eagerness.

'I haven't got that far yet.'

* * *

Half an hour and an endless number of pancakes later, Jake was happily finishing off the last of the food on my plate. I didn't know how he was still eating, after everything else I'd already fed him; it was one thing to know that shapeshifters had large appetites, but another entirely to see it in the flesh. Still, I didn't mind; chatting with him over breakfast had been too much fun for me to really care.

Now, though; now, he was staring out the window with a slight frown, his eyes distant; and it wasn't hard to guess what he was thinking about.

'Are you leaving?' I asked softly and a bit sadly, and his gaze immediately flicked to mine.

'Maybe.' I gave him a confused look.

'I know you want to go.' I said, touching his arm gently. I could feel his slowly stirring worry through the imprint; worry for the pack. It was ingrained in him to watch over them, which I understood. He was the alpha; it was what he was meant to do.

'I do. But I don't want to leave you either.' He said, his voice turning hard. 'I haven't forgotten what happened the last time I did.' He continued quietly, falling silent as he thought for another moment. Then suddenly, he let out a heavy sigh; he had decided.

'Alright. I'll leave, but not for long.' He told me, standing from his stool and tugging me to my feet. I barely had time to stand before he was pulling me into his arms, hugging me fiercely.

'Five minutes.' He murmured into the top of my head as I buried my face in his chest. 'And then I'll be back.' He said reassuringly, though at first I wasn't quite sure if he was directing it at himself or me.

It wasn't until he pulled away that I realised it was probably both.

Because neither of us wanted him to leave, but both of us knew that he had to.

Five minutes. I could last five minutes without him. Hell, I _had_ to be able to last five minutes without him; I couldn't keep him around 24/7, as appealing as that sounded.

And yet five minutes had never sounded so long, a thought Jake seemed to agree with, if his torn expression was any indication.

'It shouldn't be so hard.' He said, cupping my cheek. I nodded, smiling softly but sadly.

'It shouldn't be; but it is.' I said, and I forced myself to step backwards, slipping all but my hand from his grasp. 'Only five minutes.' I reminded him.

'Only five minutes.' He repeated.

'Enough time for you to check on the pack, and for me to change into something _not_ red.' He laughed, grinning; though he wouldn't let go of my hand when I tried to pull it back. Instead, he came with it, grabbing me and kissing me softly.

'I'll see you soon.' He murmured, brushing a lock of hair out of my face.

And then he was gone. I could see his tall figure disappearing down the hallway, his bare shoulders drawing my attention; but too soon, they were gone as well. Because he was out the door now, out of my sight; and I couldn't hold back a sad noise in response.

I just wasn't the same without him. The imprint had done something, _he_ had done something; changed me, made me different. I didn't know when or how or what, but sometime over the last 6 days – though it felt like so much longer – something had happened. I _needed _him now; and I needed him too much.

Too much.

Shaking my head, I forced myself to move, shoving my thoughts sidewards; I would not spend the next five minutes moping. This kind of thing – him not being here – was going to happen a lot; I had to deal with this.

And so I increased my too slow pace, making my way to the bedroom; I hadn't been joking when I'd said I was going to change clothes. Not just because I hated red – though I did – but because after sleeping on the ground in the woods, my clothes were in desperate need of cleaning. It was a relief to pull on a new pair of jeans and white top, and to fix my hair; Jake's love of playing with it had left it in disarray, not that I really minded. But brushing it gave me something to do, something to pass the time, which was something that I needed.

And something I was struggling to find as I found myself once again in the kitchen, standing there with absolutely _nothing_ to distract myself. Which was bad, so bad, because now that Jake was gone, my mind was free to think about topics I'd been fervently avoiding; topics I wanted to _keep_ avoiding.

And so, restless and desperate, I found myself opening all of the cupboards and draws I could find; searching for anything, anything at all, that would grab my attention.

Such as the book I found stuffed away beneath a stack of papers, its dog-eared corners a glaring sign that it was a favourite of Sera's. Then there was the masses of sticky notes strewn in the next draw over, all of which had confusing scrawls of words that I struggled to understand. In the cupboard under the sink, I found the gun that Quil had been so curious about the other day; once again it saddened me to think of why it was there.

And that sadness must had flooded over to Jake, because just seconds later, I felt his worry and silent question seeping through the imprint; he wanted to know what was going on. Smiling softly at his concern, I tried to push some happiness his way, bringing it up to the surface; I didn't want him to worry. But I couldn't help but bring up other emotions as well; restlessness, and a need for him that was growing by the second.

A need that sent me once again scrambling to find a distraction; only to wish I'd never found one.

I moved to the cupboards along the next wall, opening two and closing them almost immediately; I wasn't interested in cleaning supplies, or my sister's glass wear. I did pause for a moment in the pantry, unable to resist a look for my favourite snacks, though I didn't find them; if they were there, Sera must have hidden them away. The thought made me smile as I stepped back, pushing it half shut; only find myself freezing on the spot, my smile dropping instantly as fear exploded within me, my breaths stopping.

_He_ was standing right behind the door.


	35. Gone

**A/N: Thanks to those who reviewed the last chapter, especially since I got no reviews for the two chapters before. Now that we're getting to the exciting part, I'm going to try and update more often, so keep an eye out. :)**

* * *

**Chapter 35 - Gone**

Leon. Was. _Here_.

My panic level doubled as paralysing shock flooded through me; _how had he gotten here?_ How was he standing there, _grinning_; a sick grin that made my stomach roll as I caught sight of his evil eyes. My terror reached new heights as I took it in, the overwhelming dread kicking my brain into gear as my mind finally came up with a response; a single three letter word.

_Run_.

He moved the same time I did. Instinct made me lurch for the knife rack just 3 metres away, but his hands were clamping down on my waist and throwing me sidewards before I could reach them. I screamed as I skidded across the smooth tiles, but I was cut off just a moment later as I crashed into the cupboards with a dizzying smack. I didn't stop moving though, scrabbling across the floor before I'd even stopped sliding; the crushing fear that was driving me wouldn't let me sit still. But even though I was moving as fast as I could; faster, maybe, than I'd ever moved before, it wasn't enough to beat _him_.

His hands were locking in an unbreakable hold around my ankles, hauling me backwards and sending me slamming into the ground once more with pained cry. I kicked back at him furiously, twisting onto my back to try and loosen his grip. By some miracle, it worked – or more likely, he let me go – my foot breaking free and connecting with his hard body, making him curse as I threw myself away from him.

Again I lurched for the knife rack, flinging myself across the counter and grabbing for it even as I felt Leon once again catch my feet. For the third time I found myself pulled to the ground, but I managed to yank out one of the blades before I crashed into it, my vision flickering with black for a second; a second too long.

Because he was on top of me now, his weight crushing as his hands locked around my throat, forcing me into the ground. I writhed beneath him, bucking in an attempt to get him off me, but he was too heavy; too heavy, and too strong. It didn't help that he was suffocating me, cutting off my air supply; I could feel myself weakening with ever second that passed.

Yet somehow, I still had the knife.

And I still had enough strength to slash out with it, plunging it deep into his side. Of course I missed; he moved out of the way, rolling us across the ground; though not quite fast enough. The blade sliced shallowly across his chest, making him snarl with anger as I continued to struggle. He tore the blade from my hand, giving me the opening I needed as our next roll left me on top of him; I lunged away. But faster than should have been possible, he was suddenly pressing me down again.

And then all I could feel was his hands locking around my neck, pain exploding in my skull, and blackness crashing over me.

* * *

_Jake's POV_

60 seconds. It had only been 60 seconds, but already I missed her; missed her too much. It didn't matter that I was less than a mile away. It didn't matter than I'd seen her just seconds earlier. It didn't matter that I could feel her very presence through the imprint.

It just wasn't enough. Not anymore. I needed _her_; small and warm and soft and sweet. I needed to see her, touch her; and to know she was absolutely and completely safe. Because now that she was no longer distracting me, all of my worry and anger and fear was coming rushing back; and it was all I could do to stay where I was and not go running right back to her.

Not yet. Soon, but not yet.

If only waiting wasn't so hard. Hard, and only growing harder, as her sadness suddenly reached me through the imprint, making me worry increase as I wondered at the cause. It was a worry she must have felt, because in just seconds the sadness was gone, replaced with happiness; she was telling me that she was ok. If I was human, I would have grinned; even without words she knew what I needed. But while the happiness was calming and reassuring, the other emotions that slipped though weren't so much.

She was restless, which made me fidget, clawing softly at the ground. But that wasn't the problem; the problem was the fact that whether she knew it or not, she was pulling at me; wanting me with her. It made me both happy and sad to feel it; happy to know she wanted me, but sad that I couldn't do as she was silently asking. Because I hadn't forced myself away from her for no reason, and until I caught up to speed with the pack, I couldn't return; not unless I wanted it all to be for nothing.

And so with all the strength I had, I pushed her as much from my mind as possible, trying to pay attention to Quil's thoughts in my head.

_Jake, man, you still there?_

_Yeah, sorry. Got a lot on my mind right now._

_Yeah, and you'd have a lot less if you stopped worrying about us. Things aren't going to collapse if you leave us on our own for a few days._

_I know._

_You don't sound very convinced._ He said with a laugh. I growled softly, preparing to through back a retort; instead I found myself flattened to the ground.

Because in one horrifying moment, Thea had suddenly exploded. An all-consuming wave of terror had blasted through me, slamming me to the ground and stunning me. And her fear was only growing, growing exponentially as I launched to my feet and tore through the trees, all but flying across the ground as one irrepressible thought dominated all others.

_Find her._

Panic. Horrible, terrifying panic. Panic that was both hers and mine, mixing together and searing through me with unstoppable force that made my blood boil. It was panic that was driving me faster, _faster_, because I was sick to my stomach and Thea was hurting and _I could not lose her_. But as Thea's explosive emotions suddenly disappeared, abruptly cut off as the imprint emptied and all feeling of her was dimmed to just the weakest link, an awful thought occurred to me.

I could not lose her; _but maybe I already had_.

_No_.

I let out a terrible growl, my pain making it sound more like a roar as I thundered through the woods. It had been just seconds, and I was only halfway back to the house, but it didn't matter because _she wasn't there anymore_. I could feel her moving further and further away, which made me whimper; because I knew it wasn't her doing it. The dimness of the imprint could mean only that she was unconscious, and _someone else_ was moving her; and I knew _exactly_ who.

_Him_. The shapeshifter. Only he could ever scare her so badly. Only he could ever force her when she didn't want to go. And only he would _dare_ take her away from me.

He would _pay_ for this. He _would not _get away with this. She was _mine_.

She was mine; _and I was going to get her back_.

Because I had blasted past the house now, not bothering to check it, heading directly to where I knew she was. I could feel that much, at least; I could still find her. I _would_ find her; I could feel myself growing closer with every frantic push of my legs. Closer and closer, so close I was trembling with adrenaline and fear and anticipation and hope.

_I would not lose her_.

Thea was just metres away now. Metres that I was covering in less than a second, bursting through the trees with a furious growl, my body tense with expectation; only to find myself skidding to a stop.

She wasn't here.

I let out a pained and confused whine, turning frantically on the spot as I opened my senses up wide. Smelling for her, listening for her, looking for her; but there was nothing.

_There was nothing here._ Nothing but trees and bushes, no whiff of her scent, and no sound of a heartbeat.

She. Was. Not. Here.

Except the imprint said she was. I was throwing all of my energy and concentration into it, pulling at her as much as possible and feeling her as deeply as I could; according to the imprint, she was here. I could _feel_ her here. Here. This very spot. The spot I was burying my head into, the spot that was nothing but dirt and leaves.

She was here; but she wasn't.

DAMMIT, _WHERE WAS SHE?!_

She _had _to be here. I could feel that she was here, and so she was. I just had to find her.

I had to find her.

But a minute later, after I had combed over every inch of ground in the area, the terrible truth began to dawn on me. A truth that I blatantly and completely _refused_ to accept, but couldn't deny as I let out a mournful howl packed full of pain.

Thea wasn't here.

She was **gone**.

* * *

After that horrible realisation, it took almost a minute for me to pull myself back together; for me to start thinking through the aching loss that was spreading through me.

She was gone.

But I was going to get her back; I just didn't know how.

I began to pace as I thought it over, treading softly and aimlessly through the trees. Meaningless circles at first, but after a while I realised I'd been unintentionally heading back to Thea's house; a trip I'd done many times before when I was looking for her. The difference was that this time, she wasn't there–

I stiffened as sudden realisation struck.

She wasn't there; but her scent was.

Her scent that would lead me straight to her.

And so, just like before, I found myself once again flying through the trees. The fear and loss that had consumed me was now mixed with a growing hope; a hope that drove me run faster as I threw myself towards the house. Thanks to my subconscious wanderings, I was so close it took only seconds, before I was phasing and dressing in a rush. And then I was running, running through the wide open front door and down the hallway; before staggering to a sudden stop in the kitchen.

Because right in front of me, sitting on the floor less than a metre away, was a blood coated knife.

I balked at the sight, my body freezing. I knew I ought to pick it up, but the imprint had me locked in position; it did not want me to touch something that had hurt _her_. But with a shudder, I fought through it, stooping and easily snagging the handle; only to realise, now that I was closer, that _this wasn't her blood_.

Relief. Body melting relief. I was no longer eyeing the blade with disgust, though I couldn't say I liked it. It wasn't the only thing out of place either; the knife rack was also on the floor, on its side in the corner where two counters met. Then there were the cupboards, the doors dented and broken; more proof that Thea had been taken against her will.

She had been taken, but she had put up a good fight.

At first I wasn't sure how I felt about that; knowing she had tried and failed to escape him. Upset, definitely; it was horrible to imagine it, to know that he had hurt her in the process. Then came the guilt; I should have been here to save her. And lastly, there was pride; my imprint had managed to hurt a shapeshifter.

A shapeshifter that _I_ would be hurting once I found Thea again; a thought that reminded why I'd come here in the first place.

I breathed in deeply, letting the smells of the house wash through me, searching for the only one I really cared about. _Her_ scent; foresty and flowery and sweet. It was here, in this room; for a moment it almost seemed like she was here too. But she wasn't here; and neither was what I was looking for.

There was no trail to mark her leaving the house.

My eyebrows crinkled in confusion, and inhaled again. That couldn't be right; there _had_ to be a trail. Your scent couldn't just disappear; it wasn't possible. You could hide it, weaken it, but it was always there if you tried hard enough to find it.

Yet despite that knowledge, despite my desperation and how tuned my senses were to her right now, _there was nothing_. Her scent was here, yes; all over the kitchen, faint through the hallway. It had been a while since we'd turned up here this morning, which explained the weakness of latter, and the former also made sense. A short trail stretched down to her bedroom, but it doubled up, leading right back to the kitchen. No, what I was looking for was something else; something that should be fresh and obvious and unmissable.

Something that for some reason just didn't exist. I growled in frustration, turning in a pointless circle as my eyes roamed the kitchen. Dammit, what was I missing? There had to be _something _here, something I could track her down with; his scent, if not hers.

I froze. His scent. His scent _wasn't here._ I inhaled yet again, sifting through all of the smells to double check my guess.

Nothing. Not even a hint. How was it possible? He had been here, in this very _room_; that was his blood on the knife. And yet there was not even a whiff of any shapeshifter's scent, other than my own. It was as if he'd never been here; but he had.

Just like Thea was and wasn't at that spot in the woods. I growled again, thumping my fist down on the counter in despair.

Her scent wasn't here. His scent wasn't here.

_I had no trail to follow._

I had lost her; and now, I had no way to get her back.


End file.
